Everything's Coming Up
by RRatedauthor
Summary: They're taking over the WWE and things couldn't be any better for the Hardys and Orton. Until a name from their past returns and starts sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Will the strong survive or will tragedy rear its ugly head once more?
1. Roses

All characters would be copyright Vince McMahon if I hadn't killed him off. The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual living people (except their names, physical appearance, and who they're sleeping with) is purely coincidental. Tom Baker-Hardy courtesy the author.

Roses

After their hellacious match at Summerslam, both Degeneration X and Priceless requested a rematch for the following night's RAW and guest host Floyd "Money" Mayweather was only too happy to agree to it. With Chairman Vince McMahon rapidly turning into compost, this whole idea of Guest Hosts for RAW was going to be shelved once they were past the big PPV, but several weeks of television had already been written including them. At the end of the match came the first of many surprises for the WWE universe. It was the first appearance of Randy Orton and the trio of Hardys that shocked everyone, but that shock soon turned to confusion when they attacked the four participants in the ring, laying them all out with multiple chair shots.

Tom grabbed the mic from Lillian Garcia and addressed the crowd. "You may know who we are, but you people really haven't got a clue otherwise."

There was nothing even remotely reminiscent of their previous characters. Gone were all traces of cargo pants, arm wraps, short trunks, everything. All four of them were dressed identically in black jeans, red t-shirts, black leather jackets, and sunglasses. Jeff had even dyed his hair black. One the back of their jackets was the insignia of four playing cards with the words "The four Aces" beneath them as well as "Orton", "Baker", or "Hardy" above.

"This company fucked us over royally and now we're back to do the same to them." Orton shouted "Priceless, DX, Jeri-Show, it doesn't matter... we're talking over."

This comment was directed at the four men they'd just beaten the living hell out of who were staggering up the ramp, looking confused. "We're not here about titles, we're hear about rippin' ass and taking names." Orton added before handing the mic over to Matt.

"I used to care about what the fans thought. Hell, I made peace with Jeff for you guys. But when I read all the comments about my weight gain, it makes me sick to my stomach. Nobody bothered to get the facts before tearing into me. Well, enough is enough! What you see before you is Matt Hardy version 2. And this time, there will be no MF'ers to hold me back. Everything I need is in this ring with me."

Randy, Tom, and Jeff nodded agreement. Finally, Jeff took the mic.

"I put up with the abuse, the name-calling, the slurs, people trying to hurt me for the choices I made for long enough. The time has come for no more words... it's time for action."

Jeff waited for the boos to die down before handing the mic back to Tom.

"I did everything for you fans. I turned a third-rate brand into the hottest thing on the planet and what do I get for my trouble. A former boss taking advantage of me and my family every chance he got. Well, you saw what we did to Vince McMahon... consider the rest of you warned. Stay the hell out of our way."

"Have these guys flipped?" Michael Cole asked The King.

"I don't think so. This was calculated." Lawler replied

"And the first thing we're gonna do is issue a challenge." Tom said, then handed the mic back to Randy.

"You saw what we did to those posers in Priceless and DX. If there are four of you with enough hair on your asses to come out here, we're looking for a fight. In fact, we're not going anywhere until we get an answer."

Tom jumped out of the ring and grabbed four folding chairs from ringside. He slid them into the ring and the four of them sat down and waited.

"King, what are these guys doing?" Cole asked

"I think they're waiting for a fight." Lawler replied

"Quite right, King. You should tell your broadcast partner to stop asking stupid questions unless he wants his voice box removed." Matt replied

They waited. Minutes passed and still no answer. The Aces were getting a little restless.

"Hey, we ain't got all night. If you can't find four guys to fight us, then maybe we just grab four bystanders." Tom stared right at the broadcast position. "Whaddaya say King... you wanna piece o' this? I saw what you did to THE Brian Kendrick... wanna try it on someone who can actually fight back?"

Jerry stood and it looked like he was going to get into the ring, when then opening strains of "My Time Is Now" caused the arena to erupt into cheers. John Cena, fresh from his most recent match, stood on the top of the stage.

"I don't know what you are trying to prove, but if you think there aren't four guys who wanna go postal on ya asses, they you're freakin' wrong dawgs."

Randy grabbed the mic and addressed his long-time rival. "Cena, on your best day you were half the man I was. What makes you think you stand a chance right now?"

"Y'know, dawg, looking in that ring, I see four of the biggest jerk-offs this company ever made the mistake of letting into a ring." Cena said, prompting the crowd to start chanting "Jerk-off!"

"Whatever." Randy scoffed "At least I'm not a pretender like you. John Cena, a guy who thinks he can act. Instead of "the franchise", they should've called you "Mr. Straight-to-video". As for your rap career, I've heard you were outsold by the Greatest Hits of Milli Vanilli last month."

"Yo dawg, you can say what you want, but I'm here to tell you that if you want a fight, I brought some friends who got a few things to say to ya."

CM Punk came out next and tore into Jeff's lifestyle.

"Hey, Cookie Monster." Jeff shouted back. "Maybe if you weren't so busy cramming your straight-edge lifestyle down everyone's throat, you may have had enough time to get some talent. The only time you ever win titles is when you sneak attack people. "Mr. Money in the Bank"? I don't think so... more like shit in the tank!"

"Jeff. I've beaten you before and tonight I will be more than happy to lay a beating down on you. But we're not the only ones who have a thing with you."

The next person to appear shocked everyone, especially Tom. It was Tommy Dreamer.

"Lemme guess, Tommy. You gotta problem with me." Tom leaned on the top rope and addressed the ECW representative.

"Fuckin' a, man. I am the last of the ECW originals. I've busted my ass for ECW since the beginning and what thanks do I get... none! You make me lose the championship in Philadelphia for one thing and if that ain't bad enough, you kick me out of the title picture for some dumb Brit who couldn't draw a crowd with a pad of paper and a pack of crayons!" Dreamer spouted

"Since when is your lack of talent my concern." Tom waved Dreamer away.

Matt came forward and took the mic. "And now I guess you're going to find someone who has a problem with me, right. Well, bring it on!"

The arena suddenly went dark and Kane's music played. When the lights finally came back on, Kane was there, but he wasn't on the stage with Cena, Punk, and Dreamer... he was in the ring and had Matt Hardy in a choke slam.

Before the other three had time to react, Matt was on his back in the middle of the ring. Punk, Dreamer, and Cena rushed the ring and the fight was on. With Matt out flat, the other Aces were four-on-three, so they did the next best thing... Jeff and Tom grabbed two of the chairs they'd been sitting on and started swinging. This gave Randy enough time to roll Matt out of the ring, then they all ran for cover.

"This ain't over." Tom pointed at the four men standing tall. "Not by a long shot." Matt was being held up by Randy and Jeff.

The theme song of the guest host du jour interrupted them and Money, in all his crunk glory and with his entourage in tow, stood up top.

"Since you all wanna get up in it, whatsay we have an eight man elimination tag match tonight? You been here alla ten minutes and already you're stirrin' shit." He looked disgusted.

"You four against those four and we'll see who's left standin'."

"Just because you have a victory over Big Show, where do you get off tellin' us what to do?" Orton shouted

"I run this shit tonight, and if you don't like it, you can deal with my boys." Money pointed to his crew, who struck menacing poses.

The Aces walked right past, not bothering with a comment or anything. They dragged Matt to their private locker room where a rather large ice pack was applied to his head and neck.

"When they said we're gonna be stirring the shit, they weren't kidding!" Tom said

"Whassup with the Smackdown and ECW guys though?" Jeff asked "I thought we were supposed to be just talkin' smack to the RAW guys tonight?"

"Creative must've changed their minds or some junk." Tom shrugged

They were interrupted by the new head of the WWE: Linda McMahon, in tow with one of the producers.

"Good job." She said

"What's with the SD and ECW guys?" Orton asked

"Well, in a nutshell TNA is starting to overtake us in the ratings, so I met with the producers and decided that we're going to stir things up a bit more. It will be announced officially next week, but seeing as how much the fans are liking the Superstars program, we're going to drop the brand dividers and have everyone compete on every show."

Tom nodded. He'd actually proposed something like this during his tenure as the ECW General Manager, but with Vince in charge it hadn't been taken seriously.

"What about the titles?" Matt asked, adjusting the ice bag so it rested more comfortably.

"We're not sure yet. There's talk of amalgamation of the three heavyweight titles and the IC and US titles, but we won't do anything until we see how the combining of the three shows go." Linda responded

"Another thing." She added "Tonight's match is all on the fly. We want to create an air of spontaneity on RAW. Fans know that it's the only live weekly show we do, so we want to get back to that 'anything can happen' atmosphere."

"Just to satisfy my curiosity, is this basically you' making us the next NWO?" Tom asked, stretching out on the bench.

"Not really. We want to go back to the old days of stables." Linda replied "But not to that extreme. We'd like you four to take on anyone and everyone. Have the fans cheer for you sometimes, and have them hate you others. It hasn't been done on this scale ever."

"Not since the Hart Foundation did their whole anti-U.S. thing." Matt added "Sounds like an interesting challenge, Mrs. McMahon."

"I hope you're up for it."

"If we weren't, we would not be here." Tom replied

"And one last thing." One of the producers stuck his head around Linda. "Until this gets some steam, please don't associate with any of the guys in a social situation. What you do here and privately is your own business, but if this is gonna work the way we want it to, you've gotta be seen as total outcasts."

"Not a problem. Most of the guys hate us anyway." Orton added

"Your match is in an hour." Linda and the producer left.

"Does that mean we can go to catering at least?" Tom asked "I need some energy."

No sooner had he said that, then there was a knock on their locker room door.

"Linda sent these for ya." Two trays of submarine sandwiches were placed on a nearby bench along with a cooler of Gatorade. "Good luck."

"I guess that answers that." Matt dove in to the food.

...

"This content is the elimination tag team match. Elimination can occur by pinfall, submission, countout, or disqualification. The match will continue until one team has been completely eliminated. Introducing team number one... first, From Yonkers, New York... Tommy Dreamer."

This was not an extreme rules match, yet Tommy arrived pushing a shopping cart full of weapons.

"His partner, from Chicago Illinois, CM Punk!"

Punk came out, doing his whole straight-edge gimmick, which if you don't mind me saying, was getting old fast.

"And their partner, Kane."

The arena lights dimmed again for the entrance of the Big Red Machine.

"And their partner, from West Newberry, Massachusetts, John Cena!"

Once all four of them were in the ring, they eyes each other suspiciously. To a man, they distrusted each other, but they were united against their common enemy.

"And their opponents... Randy Orton, Tom Baker, Jeff Hardy, and Matt Hardy... the Four Aces!"

They walked out, no pyro, no entrance theme, nothing. Just four very intense-looking men. Their covered eyes betraying no emotion.

"This ain't scripted, right?" Tom whispered "Grab a weapon."

As they passed Dreamer's cart, they each grabbed something. One Singapore cane, a crutch, a stop sign, and a trash can all ended up in the hands of the Aces. They split up and each climbed to a different corner.

Cena, Dreamer, Kane, and Punk stood in the center of the ring, looking a little uneasy. Dreamer's idea of the weapons had completely backfired.

Matt looked to his three partners and nodded to each. They nodded a reply and jumped into the ring, weapons swinging. The match hadn't started yet, so whatever they could get in was okay.

Several more officials were needed before order was restored sufficiently to allow the match to begin. But by then, Dreamer was busted open, Punk was busted open, and Cena was writhing in a pain on the floor. Only Kane was unhurt to that degree so he started the match and in a big way.

The Aces decided to just attack Kane as a unit, but it didn't work real well as shortly there was an Ace whipped into each corner, followed by a series of running clotheslines. This left four bodies sagging against each set of turnbuckles and a confused referee as to who was the legal opponent for Kane. So he did the best thing he could. He randomly picked someone to start the match and then tried to get the other three back to their corner. Unluckily, he picked the one person to start the match who also had a set of brass knuckles in his jeans. No sooner was the referee's back turned, then Tom knocked Kane for a loop. Kane was out and a pin would've been academic at that point, but pain was on the agenda for the Aces. Tom ascended the neutral corner and flew onto Kane, then tagged in Jeff who did the same thing.

By now, Kane was barely conscious, so what did Jeff do? Tagged in his brother Matt who dropped Kane hard with a Twist of Fate. Now Kane was also sporting the crimson mask, but they weren't finished. Orton tagged himself in and delivered not one, not two, not three, but four RKO's to the fallen man.

He nonchalantly covered Kane for the one two three, and could've covered him for a lot more than that if he'd wanted and laughed gleefully when Kane was rolled out of the ring and even more when the stretcher had to be brought down for him.

The Aces waited while Cena, Dreamer, and Punk tried to figure out what to do. Cena reluctantly agreed to get in, he being only one without an obscured vision.

Orton waved Cena on. John did not look real confident, squaring off with what some have called pound-for-pound one of his toughest opponents. Randy noticed John's trepidation so he generously tagged out to Tom.

Tom stepped in and mocked Cena's Marine salute for turning it into a one-finger gesture. Cena shrugged and turned away slightly, then charged Tom. Baker wasn't fooled for one second. He stepped to the side and flipped Cena over the top rope, catching his neck between the twisted upper and middle strands.

"Back it up!" The referee pushed between Tom and Cena when it looked like Tom wasn't going to let Cena untangle himself. Tom was smart enough to argue with the referee in such a way that his back was to Cena so Matt and Jeff could each grab a leg and start pulling, intensifying the pain.

Once Tom saw that his brothers had finished their deviousness, he stepped back and 'allowed' the referee to help Cena right himself. It didn't help because once he turned around, Tom was waiting with a Twist of fate to the man from Mass. Tagging in Jeff, it was a matter of a swanton and a three count and the Aces were halfway done.

Dreamer and Punk looked at each other like "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Who's next?" Tom gestured to the pair of bloody wrestlers. CM Punk smirked and stepped in to face Tom.

"Straight-edge, my ass!" Tom sneered "I'm not wasting my time with you." He tagged Matt back in.

Punk had a little more success against Matt, landing a couple of punches and a cross-body block, but Matt rolled with it and ended up on top where he pommeled him, making him bleed more with each punch.

"Matty... me!" Jeff pleaded, bouncing on the apron, his arm outstretched for the tag.

Matt looked over. "Anything for my baby brother." He graciously tagged Jeff back in, who continued to mete out the punishment.

"No booze... no cigarettes... no promiscuous sex... no fun!" He emphasized each no with a leg drop.

On the ring apron, the others laughed.

"Prolly 'coz he's got nothing to have sex with!" Tom exclaimed

"Prolly." Jeff got a wicked look that Tom immediately recognized. "May I?"

"Just this once." Tom answered

Jeff set Punk up for a clothesline and purposely missed. Punk thought he was good when he kicked Jeff in the stomach and turned around to tag Dreamer in, but Jeff was playing possum. The second Punk's back was to him, Jeff reached out and yanked his trunks down to his ankles.

Punk covered up but not before the live audience learned two things about him. One is that he did not wear underwear under his tights and the second was that he wasn't Jewish! His face turned an shade similar to the accents on his tights, and he tried to pull them up and tag Tommy Dreamer at the same time, neither of which worked as Jeff tripped him and pinned him for the one two three. CM could've kicked out, but I think he was too afraid of more people getting to know him a lot more.

This left four on Dreamer. Needless to say the last of the ECW originals was not feeling so confident. So what did he do... he took off! It was academic once the referee began his ten count.

"Here are your winners... the four aces."

Orton grabbed the mic away as soon as they were announced. "If that's the best you have, then we're gonna have no problem taking over."

The four men stood in the middle of the ring, arms raised.

"Let's get the hell outta here." Tom whispered "This crowd doesn't look like they're gonna serenade us with 'for he's a jolly good fella'."

The quartet high-tailed it to the back and into their private quarters.

"I think I'm gonna like this new gig." Tom made a beeline for the remaining subs.

"Ditto. But I'm just wondering about the name... the Four Aces?" Matt asked

"Two reasons. The first is the card thing we did to see if we were going back. The second is I created a stable similar to ours on Smackdown versus Raw." Tom explained "I used other people, but I thought if anyone could personify what I thought the Aces stood for it was us."

Tom was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of commotion in the hall.

"Where the fuck are those assholes! That was uncalled for!"

"Sounds like Phil didn't like everyone seeing his junk." Tom motioned for silence. He quickly closed and locked their door and doused the light. He felt his way back to where he'd been sitting.

"What are you doing?" Jeff demanded hoarsely.

"Shhh... let them think we've already left. I'm hoping that at some point someone will tell them what the plan was." Tom motioned for everyone to lower their voices.

"So what do we do while we wait? I can't even see my sandwich!" Matt complained

"Fuck?" Jeff suggested

Tom almost slapped him, then he remembered they were trying to be quiet. "Jeffro, you can't do that quietly... hell, every time you come I'm thinking the neighbors are getting aroused."

"So Randy, the first time we meet, Jeff tells me that Matt's the loud one and then I have to practically stuff my fist down his throat to keep him quiet." He added

In the dark he couldn't tell, but was Randy smiling?

"He hasn't been loud with me." He answered "But we haven't actually done it yet."

"Twenty bucks." Jeff giggled

"Jeff, you are way too interested in your brother's sex life." In the dark, Tom could see Randy shake his head. He debated whether he should actually say what was on his mind.

"Randy, you are aware that Matt and Jeff had something together before I came along, right?"

Randy was a little shocked at this revelation. "Y'mean, the rumors were true?"

Matt swallowed. "I didn't know if I should tell you or not... this doesn't change my feelings for you."

"I though Philly was the city of brotherly love... not Cameron, North Carolina." Randy answered

"Randy... are... are you mad at me?" Matt asked

"Not really. In fact, this makes my next question a little easier to ask." Randy replied "How far did you and Jeff go?"

"All the way." Matt immediately cringed. "And with Tom too."

"Jeff and I were suffering from separation anxiety at the time... it was consensual." Tom answered

"What you three did on your own time was, and is, your own business." Randy answered

"Now that we're together, yours is the only cock for me." Matt reached over and rubbed Randy's member gently. "No offense, but I wish we were alone so I could have some of that cock right now."

Randy grinned cheesily. Thankfully the lights were out and Randy was in black jeans.

"Doesn't bother us. Jeffro and I were thinking the same thing." Tom clicked his teeth and began stroking little Jeff through the rough fabric, eliciting a soft moan from his husband.

"As long as you stay on your side of the room." Randy groaned and the next sound was that of a belt being unbuckled.

"We promise." Tom and Jeff said, entwining their mouths in a kiss while their hands started to explore each other's bodies.

Trying to look at innocent as possible, ECW reporter Gregory Helms had been asked to deliver a message to the Four Aces, which was proving difficult. There were at least half a dozen angry wrestlers looking for them, including an irate CM Punk.

"Hey, you!" Punk shouted

"Oh shit." Helms tucked the message he'd been given into his pocket. "Yeah, Phil, what's the problem?"

"You know what the problem is." Punk grabbed the front of Helms' shirt and pulled him nose-to-nose. "And since you're soooo close to them, maybe you could tell me where they're hiding?"

"I dunno, Phil." He lied "I don't see what the BIG problem is anyway." He glanced down at Punk's crotch, making his point perfectly clear.

"Fuck you and the Hurri-cycle you rode in on." Punk released his hold. "I want you to tell them that when I see them, I will hurt them real bad."

"Real bad, huh?" Helms replied "Wanna come back to the Hurri-cave and tell me what you wanna do to them?"

It took a second for it to register that Helms' was coming on to him.

"Screw you..." Punk stormed away.

"I'd rather screw you." Helms shouted after him. Quickly checking the scene out, he slid the note under the door of what was labeled 'maintenance' and then followed in the direction CM had.

The sounds of the paper sliding under the door halted the activities within the room. A partially-nude Jeff Hardy, as in nude from the waist down, heard the sound and crawled over to it. With no light, the only way he found it was going on the thing ray of light coming from under the door.

He quickly scanned the sheet. "Awesome!" He whispered, then "Oh Shit!"

"Are we talking about Matt's technique again?" Randy gasped, in the middle of receiving another of Matt's intense blow jobs.

"What's awesome and what's oh shit?" Tom asked "And why did you stop to get the mail in the first place?"

"Smackdown... we take out the Undertaker!" Jeff read by what little light there was.

"Is that the awesome... or the... oh shit?" Randy groaned

"I think that's the awesome part." Tom guessed "Now get back here and finish me off!"

"But don't you..."

"Not right now!" Tom growled. "Get over here."

Jeff scrambled over to do his husband's bidding, leaving the envelope half-open nearby. The oh shit was caused by the headline of a newspaper clipping that someone had tucked in. "CHARGES REVERSED IN SPADE ATTACKS"

TBC

_This one will have a little more action than some of my previous works. I hope you enjoy it!_


	2. Lilies

Lilies

"Welcome to Smackdown!" JR shouted "After one of the most controversial Summerslam's ever, what does the future hold for one CM Punk?"

Despite the abuse he'd taken the night before on the live RAW, Phil had made it to the Smackdown/ECW television tapings as had Kane and ECW's Tommy Dreamer. They had patrolled the entrances, waiting for the arrival of the Four Aces. What they didn't know was that, on orders, Tom, Matt, Jeff, and Randy had arrived much earlier and found a suitable hiding place.

The arena lights darkened and a gong sounded, announcing the imminent arrival of the Undertaker.

"The Undertaker made his return last night with quite an impact." Grisham said "What does the future hold for the Dead Man.

Underneath the ring, The Aces waited, chairs in hand.

"The lights are goin' back out in two minutes." Tom whispered "When they do, that's our cue."

Right in the middle of Mark's ramblings about his return from the dark side and various other Gobbledygook, the arena lights went out again.

"Now!"

The arena was pitch black. Even the fans at ringside could only see one large shape in the ring suddenly be surrounded by four more. Then the four new shapes suddenly attacked. By the time the lights came back on, Mark was lying on his back, and the Aces were standing over him.

"Do it Tom, you're the tallest." Randy said

In his best Johnny Cage impression, Tom slowly removed the trademark sunglasses. "Let's dance." He growled, pulling Mark to his feet, then to everyone's surprise, flipped him over in preparation for a Tombstone Piledriver... the audience gasped! No one had come even close to doing this move on 'Taker since Orton tried at Wrestlemania. Mark tried to fight it, but Tom stopped that by swiftly dropping to his knees, banging his head off the mat. In mockery, Tom crossed Mark's arms across his chest and rolled his eyes back in his head, mouthing the words "Rest In Peace".

The audience booed loudly. One adventurous fan threw a can of beer into the ring. It clonked off the back of Tom's head as he was standing up.

"Want me to choke out a fan for ya Jeff?" Tom whispered

"Dare ya." Jeff said "It's that multi-colored moron."

Tom efficiently rolled out of the ring and walked over to the fan in question.

"You gotta problem with me?" He sneered, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, you suck!" He shouted

"That's your opinion." Tom replied "And if you don't keep your opinions to yourself, then I will not be held responsible for what I do."

Maybe the fan thought that Tom wouldn't do anything, but in this case he was wrong. He found this out when Tom grabbed him by his hair and threw him over the safety rail and then rolled him under the bottom rope.

"This is ridiculous, J.R.!" Grisham shouted "Who do these guys think they are?"

"I dunno Todd, but after what they did on Raw, and now to the Undertaker, we need to get someone out here to kick their asses." Jim Ross stated

Matt heard the comments of the announce team and approached the commentators' table.

"Let this be a lesson to anyone who tries to get in our way." Matt growled, pointing to the hapless fan who was being held down by Tom and Orton while Jeff climbed the ropes in preparation for a swanton. Strangely, Mark had not sat up yet.

"C'mon Jeff, don't do it!" J.R. shouted

For the first time in forever, the Hardy Gunz was met with resounding boos. Jeff flew, landing on the fan.

"We need some help out here!"

"Yeah, and not just for him." Matt reached across the table and grabbed Grisham by his necktie. The announcer struggled, but Matt soon overpowered him and rolled him into the ring as well.

"Matt, stop this! He's just doin' his job." J.R. implored the middle Hardy.

"So are we." Matt replied

Grisham was cowering in the corner, being stalked by Tom and Jeff.

"Guys, we've made our point." Orton stepped between them, helping the broadcaster to his feet and smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit jacket.

"Ya think?" Jeff asked "I don't."

Randy paused for a moment, his own gears turning. "Y'know, I think you're right!" Todd Grisham became the next victim of the RKO.

"That was fun!" Tom cracked his knuckles. "Let's get outta here." Several production crew members and wrestlers were running toward the ring.

"Sounds like fun." The four Aces took off through the crowd. Not one fan even tried to touch them, so by the time the other personnel got into the ring, they were already out the back door, where a car was waiting for them. Even as Mark, Todd, and the fan were getting help, the Aces were driving off into the sunset.

"They really want to make everyone hate us, don't they?" Matt smiled, tucking his shades into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

"You should be used to it, Mr Hit-my-brother-in-the-head-with-a-chair-at-the-Royal-Rumble." Jeff retorted

"Nice job on that fan, by the way." Tom patted his husband on the back.

"Kimo wanted his fifteen minutes of fame." Jeff shrugged

"I'm sure he'll get a few more than that." Tom answered, leaning back in his chair and letting the wind ruffle his hair. "Where are we driving to?"

"Nowhere. We just gotta lay low until they flip to the ECW taping." Matt answered

"What's up with that?"

"Kozlov, Regal, and Jackson." Matt answered

"That will be fun." Orton smiled

"That reminds me." Tom snapped his fingers. "Yesterday, you said awesome and oh shit... you never told us what was the oh shit part!"

"I didn't?" In all the excitement, Jeff had completely forgotten about the other part of the note.

"It's been buggin' me all day."

"I only saw the headline." Jeff still had the envelope in his coat and he passed it over. Tom only had to read the headline before his complexion darkened.

"Mother fucker!" He shouted

"What?" Matt asked

"Charges Reversed in Spade Attacks..." Tom read "Police have announced that the charges pending against Matt Korklun and Jack Tyler have been reversed upon an appeal filed late Friday. No specifics have been revealed, but police sources say that the two suspects may be released as early as next week... Mother fucker!"

"What?" Matt screeched, swerving. In his anger, he'd accidentally put his foot on the gas.

"This is horseshit... it has to be." Tom waved the paper around furiously, as if that might change what it said. "Evan was arrested in our hotel room and he fingered Tyler... what the hell possible grounds for their release could there be?"

"Tom, just relax. There are enough people who know what they did that if they even try to get close to you or Jeff, they'll be in for a world of hurt. I guarantee it." Randy looked over the back seat.

"Just relax... easy for you to say. My life is finally where I want it to be... I have a great marriage, I'm enjoying getting up to go to work, my family is happy, and then this load gets dropped on me... aughhhh!" Tom tore the article into confetti and let it sprinkle to the wind.

"Easy bro." Matt studied Tom's face in the rear view mirror. "No sense getting worked up over nothing. What are the odds that Linda's gonna let him back in?"

"Yeah, man." Randy agreed "If Vince was still alive... sorry to bring him up... I could see it happening, but Linda's different. She doesn't seem like the type to put her guys at risk just for ratings."

"That's what I'm 'fraid of... the company needs ratings right now." Tom exhaled slowly. "But you're prolly right."

"Are we nowhere yet?" Jeff asked

"Pretty close... wanna stop for a drink?" Tom asked

"We got time?" Matt asked

"At least an hour until the ECW taping starts." Tom had already checked his watch. "We interrupt Regal's bitch session I think."

"Something like that." Randy turned into the parking lot of the nearest bar. "Just don't overdo it."

"Do we ever?" Tom joked "Don't answer that."

The bar was half-empty so the four men were able to get a booth near the back where they wouldn't be bothered. Despite their on-camera personas, most fans still thought everyone was approachable. Tom hoped that once the show went out, this would change.

As they drank, they talked.

"Matt, Randy, were you two serious about the whole union thing or were you just trying to get our attention?" Jeff asked

Matt and Randy looked at each other.

"I was serious." Randy answered

"Me too." Matt stated

"That's what we thought." Tom responded

"But we're having a little problem with the how..." Randy added "I don't want anything fancy and Matt wants what you two did."

"Hm..." Tom thumbed his chin. "What part of what Jeff and I did do you not want?"

"The crowd, mostly." Randy answered "I just want family and maybe a few friends, not every MF'er in the country."

"We can make it real easy if you want." Tom looked over. "Get married at City Hall. You've got your two witnesses right here."

"I want something a little more romantic than that." Matt rolled his eyes at his brother and Randy.

"So somewhere between that and what we did... I'm sure we can throw a few ideas at you." Tom folded his arms.

"Imma give ya lotsa help." Jeff promised

"I dunno what kind of marriage you want in terms of religious or non-religious, but I have a buddy who's an ordained minister with the Universal Life Church." Looking at his watch, then his empty beer mug, Tom signaled to the waitress for another.

"Tommy, we gotta leave in ten minutes." Jeff protested

"So? I ain't driving." Tom retorted "And don't give me that spiel about going to work drunk. I can hold two beers."

To Jeff's amazement, not only did Tom finish his beer withing the remaining time, but he looked completely sober when they walked back into the arena. With most of the Smackdown roster gone, and the ECW guys too preoccupied with their upcoming performances to notice, the Aces were able to reclaim their private quarters. However, someone had been there in the interim. An envelope had been slid under the door.

"Not another one." Tom complained "This clandestine method of communication may work well in 1950's detective movies, but this is the twenty-first century."

"What would you want? Slide a Blackberry under the door." Jeff retorted

"Well, I don't have one of those right now." Tom shrugged indifferently. "Read it."

Jeff scanned the note that was inside the card. "Linda wants to talk to us." He announced

"When?" Randy seemed unconcerned.

"Right about..." Three soft raps on the door interrupted Jeff. "...now."

Linda was admitted. It was hard to read her expression, but something in her body language gave off the bad news vibe.

"Problem?" Tom asked

"First of all, you're doing great." Linda had a way of answering your question without actually answering it that made her a perfect candidate for office. "But I am a little concerned about that incident on Smackdown."

"Which one?" Matt asked, fiddling with his bootstraps. "The fan or Grisham?"

"Both." She answered "I don't mind you picking on people employed by WWE, but could you please try not to assault the paying customers."

"We'll try harder next time." Randy promised "Anything else?"

"I'll assume you saw that clipping I put into your last instructions." It sounded like a CIA briefing instead of a WWE meeting. "Well, there's been a development. We've been informed that Evan wants his job back and if we don't give it to him, he'll pursue legal action."

Both Tom and Jeff swallowed loudly.

"I haven't talked to the Board or Jim Ross yet. I wanted to hear what you thought before I make my recommendations."

"I still have a lovely reminder of what he and his accomplice did to me." Tom gingerly fingered the small scar that bisected his forearm. "My husband has nightmares about his encounter and two of our friends are unable to work because of them... hmmm! What do you think our thoughts would be?"

"The problem from our end is we can't afford a big lawsuit right now. We're just getting back on track. Apparently Vince's malfeasance was not limited to demanding sexual favors from his wrestlers." Linda had only recently found out that Vince had also been skimming millions of dollars from the company, then hiding them as losses.

"What are you saying? That he is coming back?" Matt also had a fond memory of his encounter with the Spade.

"Not if we can help it. I was hoping for an assurance that in a worst-case scenario you were not going to take matters into your own hands." Linda pleaded

"We promise." Tom answered quickly. The other three looked at him with confusion. "But what happens if we get involved in the ring?"

"Then I guess we have to look the other way." Linda answered, a small smile coming to her face.

"Evan would be coming back to RAW, would he?" Tom sneered

The light bulbs went on. Now it was perfectly clear where Tom was going.

"We're not sure. But we will let you know. Just so you can avoid any unpleasantness."

"You can count on us, Miz McMahon." Randy answered

"I thought so. You're segment one tonight." Linda quietly exited the room so as not to be seen.

"More of the same or do we wanna mix it up?" Tom leaned back. "I was thinking put all three of them through tables tonight?"

Matt and Jeff nodded. It had been a while since they'd satisfied their fix for wood.

...

"Welcome to the land of Extreme!" Joey Styles shouted over the din of the crowd.

William Regal's music interrupted and he came out, flanked by Kozlov and Big Zeke.

"And after an eight second defeat at the hands of Christian at Summerslam, what kind of a mood will Regal be in tonight?"

Needless to say, Regal did not look like he wanted to sit down for tea. His normally dour expression was even more dour. He only waited a moment after his music ended before launching into a diatribe.

"I stand before you humbled. In all my career, I have never been so mistreated as I was at Summerslam. Christian, you little toe-rag, I demand that you come out here so that I can give you the beating you deserve."

The cameras panned backstage where Christian was being talked to by Tom.

"Jay, don't be an idiot. There's three of them and one of you." He said

"These chumpstains don't scare me."

"Then you're even dumber than I thought you were." Tom slammed Jay's head into the wall. He fell to the ground where he was stomped repeatedly by all the Aces. Three of them soon ran off, leaving Tom alone with the champ.

"You'll thank us for this later." One last slam of Jay's head into the floor and Tom was also gone.

Regal and his associates had watched the entire scene play out and were grinning satisfactorily when the Aces sprinted down the ramp. The three of them faced the foursome, and then Regal extended his hand.

"Thank-you Sunshine for ridding me of that pest Christian." He said

Tom looked at Regal, then back at his teammates. He grabbed the mic from Regal's hand. "What makes your limey ass think that we were here to help you?"

Kozlov and Jackson stepped forward, but Regal motioned for them to stand down.

"Relax, Sunshine..."

"And I am not your Sunshine!" Tom shouted, getting right in Regal's face. "So you can take your patronizing tone and stick it up your bottom!"

"Listen here, you!" Regal yelled "I did not come out here to bandy words with you. Unless you want to have a real problem, I suggest you shake my hand and then get out of my ring."

"Just a second." Tom called the other Aces and they huddled in the nearest corner. They seemed to come to an agreement.

"Okay, Mr. Regal. You're welcome." Tom extended his hand.

"That's better." Regal shook, but his smug expression disappeared when he went to break the grip, but Tom wouldn't let go.

"What are you doing Sunshine?"

"Just saying you're welcome." Tom pulled Regal toward him. At the last moment, he stepped to the side. Regal ran right into Orton who nicely welcomed Regal to the mat with an RKO. The Hardy jumped Kozlov and Tom attacked Jackson. While supposedly choking the large black man, Tom was actually propositioning him. Read: non-sexual.

"If you're smart, you'll play along." Tom whispered, tightening just enough to make Zeke writhe. "The Aces need an enforcer and you're it. If you want in, split off from those two lackeys during a six-man match next week. Trust me... it's not only your best choice... it's your ONLY choice."

Tom rolled to the side and fed Zeke to Randy for an RKO. Once all three of them were dazed in the middle of the ring, Matt, Jeff, and Tom rolled to the outside and found the tables!

Once the table were set up in various ways, the real beating began. Kozlov was first. After a running knee to the gut doubled him over in just the right spot, Orton gave him the ever-deadly jumping-RKO through the first table, splintering it.

With Regal lying on the second one, Jeff swantoned through both him and the table, rendering more toothpicks and one very pained Brit.

Jackson was a bit more stubborn, refusing to lie quietly on the table like a good little boy. Tom had to hold his hands and Orton his feet while Matt climbed the ropes and legdropped him and the table.

With their work done, the Aces stood in the middle of the ring and looked at their spoils.

Tom suddenly slapped his forehead... "Where are my manners?" He picked up the mic and stood over Regal's form. Tom had seen fish sticks that were less battered than Regal. "Mr. Regal, you're welcome."

To a very mixed reaction, the Aces went backstage.

"So I asked Jackson." Tom said "He'll tell us next week during the six-man tag match!"

The others nodded approval.

"I thought maybe he'd give us..." The words died on Tom's lips when the recently swelled head of Jay stuck itself into their business.

Matt looked to Jeff who looked at Randy who turned to stare at Tom who stared right back before turning to look at the ECW champion.

"Problem, Christian?" Tom demanded

"I know the way Linda's makin' you operate, but I'm glad you let me know beforehand." He answered

"I know your history with certain members of this family." Tom quickly made sure that there were no cameras rolling. "But I still think of you as a friend." He almost added "who let me watch him and his boyfriend masturbate on Skype", but figured he hadn't told Jeff yet so why tell him now?

"Cool." Jay nodded

"And if it were up to me, I'd bring you in to the Aces, but that belt around your waist sorta ties you to this brand." Tom shrugged

"Maybe not for long. Linda's been talking amalgamation." Jay replied

"So I heard."

"Uh, Tommy, we better go. Can't blow our cover by having it seem like we care about anyone who isn't an Ace." Matt grabbed Tom's arm and they retreated to the safety of their clandestine headquarters, where snacks and yet another sealed envelope awaited them.

"If it's more news about Evan, I don't wanna hear it." Tom immediately headed for the cheese tray.

"Ditto." Jeff headed for the pile of Skittles.

"Okay." Randy read the note inside and tore it into little pieces. To everyone's surprise, he put them into his mouth, chewed several times, then swallowed, washing it down with gulps of water, before joining his comrades for food.

"Well, aren't you gonna tell us?" Matt demanded, his mouth full of ham and cheese.

"You said if it was about Evan you didn't want to know." Randy replied, taking a huge bite out of a BLT.

"Fuck that, tell me!"

"Ooh... you know how excited I get when you get all macho?" Randy purred

Tom and Jeff looked at each other. "We'll be right back." They said in unison and, grabbing a couple sandwiches each, headed for alternate hiding places.

"So, do I hafta get more macho with you or are you gonna tell me what that note said?" Matt growled, his eyes glinting evilly in the low light.

"No." Randy replied

"Either tell me or else..."

"Or else what? You'll make me! I doubt that... mmmmffffff!" Randy's words were cut off when Matt caught his mouth with his own.

"I can get as down and dirty as necessary to make you talk." Matt grabbed Randy's head to stop him from squirming away, and kissed him forcefully yet again, their teeth and tongues crashing together.

"Matty, I... " This was Randy's first encounter with Matt's animalistic side and he was liking it. It felt good to feel this helpless.

"Shut up!" What little illumination there was bounced off the whites of Matt's eyes, making them shine like a wolf. His hands went to Randy's chest, clenching and gripping tightly the muscles that were beneath the material of his red t-shirt. Using Randy's shirt for leverage, Matt tossed him to the floor, not as hard as he could, but still hard enough to leave marks. In seconds, he was on top of him, fisting the material in his hands.

Matt plunged in to capture Randy's lips in another rough kiss. He was already fully hard and could see Randy was in a similar state. His hand snaked lower, grasping Randy's meat through the coarse fabric of his jeans and applying friction to it. Orton moaned with each touch, his hardened cock threatening to burst out of his jeans with each caress.

"You like that, don'tcha." Matt growled softly into Randy's ear. "You like being my bitch."

"I am nobody's bitch." Orton panted

"Tonight, I own you Legend Killer and that makes you my bitch!" Matt scooted down and used his teeth to open Orton's button and then ease his zipper down. The bulge that was now only hidden by the sheerest of undergarments pulsed with a desperate need, one that mirrored Matt's own. Tearing the front of the g-string away, Matt was rewarded with the sight of Randy's erect member, throbbing, and giving off an all-too familiar scent. Essence of Orton, Matt called it.

His fingers gently tracing over the smooth flesh, Matt was rewarded with a series of jerky movements from the silky shaft and a set of moans from Randy.

"You like that, dont ya baby?" Matt looked into his lover's face. Randy's mouth was open in a small o, as opposed to the big o he was close to having, and his breath wheezed through the small opening. His face was flushed and several beads of sweat lined his brow.

"Fuck, Matty, no more torture." Randy urgently wanted his partner to bring him off, but Matt obviously had other ideas. He continued the gentle massage of his penis, sometimes using one finger, sometimes more, sometimes rubbing only the head, and sometimes avoiding it completely.

Matt chuckled, and continued to dominate Randy in much the same way he'd been dominated by Tom several months earlier. The gentle touches continued, adding a few licks here and there would always bring Orton to the brink of orgasm, but the second Matt sensed the anticipatory spasms start, then he would relax his grip on Randy's dick, but pin his wrists down so he could not finish himself off.

"Please....." Randy begged after the fourth time. "It feels like my cock is going to burst if I don't come."

"If I let you come, will you tell me what was in that note?"

Randy nodded. He so desired release that he would've agreed to any concession Matt suggested.

"Scout's honor?" Matt saluted

"Yesss.... please Matty, I'm begging you." Randy whimpered.

Matt looked down at Randy. His cock was so engorged with blood, it looked like an over-filled sausage. His balls were tight against it, contracting with each breath.

"If you don't tell me, you'll regret it." Matt leaned down and swabbed the tip of his tongue against the big vein along the back. From base to tip he licked, swabbing up the many drops of liquid that had pooled at the top and trickled down to his pubes. Again and again he licked until he could sense just how close Randy's orgasm was.

The instant a thin stream of goo dripped from the head, then Matt covered his length with his mouth. He didn't even get it all inside before Randy erupted, sending ribbon after ribbon of his genetic fluid down Matt's gullet. He swallowed it all, enjoying the feeling of power he got from making his man feel this good.

"Note?" The second the last stream had been taken in, Matt went back to business.

Randy looked down at Matt. The pure bliss that had been his expression was gone, replaced with a much more somber one. "Evan..." Randy was still breathing heavily.

"What about him?"

"He's back on RAW on Monday... and he's bringing Tyler with him." Randy moaned

"Shit!" Not caring what he looked like, nor that the entire locker room would now be aware of their hiding place, Matt threw open the door and shouted down the hall for Jeff and Tom, who came running. Jeff looked a little like Randy, and Tom had a goofy grin on his face.

"Shhh!" Tom waved his hands for silence. "You want the whole arena to know what's going on?"

"Yeah, Matty! As if Randy's cumming wasn't loud enough, now this?" Jeff frantically gestured.

"Guys, there's something you need to know and you should probably be sitting down for this."

Tom and Jeff looked at each other, instantly reading each other's minds. One unspoken word passed between them.

"Evan."

TBC

_In the next chapter... enemies unite against a common foe. And a surprise visit from an old friend! _


	3. Tulips

Tulips

As usual, the Aces arrived early for the live event. It had not been a particularly good week for the team. In the ring, it was business as usual, beating down anyone who had dared get in their path, regardless of age, race, gender, sexual orientation, or brand affiliation, but outside the ring, the return of Evan Bourne was weighing heavily on the minds of more than one member of the squad.

Tom and Jeff were trying desperately to get their game faces on, but every time they heard footsteps go past their locker room, their eyes automatically went to the door. Even Randy was starting to get concerned.

"You two gotta relax. You and Matt have a match against DX tonight" Randy addressed Jeff. "and if you don't get your head in the game against Priceless, there's gonna be trouble." He glared at Tom.

"Don't worry about my in-ring, Orton." Tom retorted

"I better not."

If one word could be used to describe Randy Orton, it was intense. (The words asshole, motherfucker, nimrod, and jerkoff also come to mind, but that's for another time!) Outside the ring, he could be kind, gentle, sweet, and all those other mushy sentiments, but get him in his gear and he was all business.

Matt seemed to be the only one not overly concerned with the Evan thing. He sat in his corner, lacing up his boots, then pulling his jeans up over top.

"You're unusually quiet today." Tom pulled on his red tee and leaned back against the lockers.

"Not much to say I guess." Matt shook out his jacket and put it on, feeling it hug his torso comfortingly. He was as shook up as his brothers by the Evan news, but there really was nothing anyone could do about it.

"Five minutes." The stage manager went from locker room to locker room, banging on all the doors. "Five minutes to air."

...

"Are you ready?"

The fans exploded with the opening of the DX theme. It built to a crescendo until the words "Break it down!" and then the arena went ballistic.

HHH and HBK entering, playing off the fans. Once in the ring, it was down to business.

"Are you ready?" HHH shouted

The fans cheered that they were, in fact, ready.

"No! I said: are... you... READY!"

Anyone who wasn't ready was now.

"Then, for the thousands in attendance, and the millions watching at home, lllllllllllllllllet's get ready to suck it!"

"And if you're not down with that, then we've got two words for ya..."

"SUCK IT!" The entire crowd chanted as one.

DX waited for their opponents.

"And their opponents... accompanied to the ring by Tom Baker. From Cameron, North Carolina, at a combined weight of four hundred fifty-seven pounds, Four Aces members Matt and Jeff... The Hardy Boys!"

There was still the odd person who cheered for team Extreme, but that was overwhelmingly drowned out by 99 point 9 percent of the fans.

Matt and Jeff drank in the boos. Jeff was still a little nervous about this new gimmick. Every other member of the Aces had been both heel and face in the WWE, but Jeff was pure face all the way and he still had to remind himself to turn off the charisma. The Four Aces were non-emotional; fuelled purely by the will to succeed.

Backstage, Randy was watching the match from the privacy of the Aces' locker room when he heard a familiar voice.

"So, Tyler, did you ever think that you'd get a chance to get back at your ex like this?" Evan said

"After what I did to him, he'll be begging for mercy."

"If Tommy decides to play hero again, he'll be the one begging." Evan replied "I have plans for my dearest."

Randy clenched his fists angrily. He wanted to wipe the floor with them, but he wasn't stupid. With no backup nearby, he wasn't going to jump two people, both of whom he knew had personal issues with his running buddies. What better way to get Jeff and Tom's attention than to hurt one of their friends again?

"Hey, why don't we start right now... let's trash their locker room!" Evan suggested

Randy's eyes widened. Did they know that he was in there by himself? He crept to the wall nearest the door and waited, praying that they would have a changing of their minds.

"I love it... we'll show them." Tyler answered

"Yeah, we'll show those assholes that no one messes with Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler and gets away with it."

Randy swallowed nervously when he saw the handle of the door turn. He had one chance to not get eradicated and that was to attack first and hard. As soon as the first shadow crossed into his line of sight, he swung hard and hoped for the best.

...

In the ring, Matt and Jeff were having a seesaw battle with DX. They would gain the advantage against Shawn, only to have him somehow tag in Triple H and lose all their momentum. Even Tom's not-so-subtle interference wasn't doing much. Things didn't get much better when Matt was Pedigreed into the canvas. Only a perfectly-placed swanton broke up the three count. Then Shawn joined the party and it was all four men in the ring at once.

The referee was quickly losing control of his match. He separated Shawn and Jeff, and herded Jeff toward his own corner, allowing HBK the chance to Superkick Matt. With his back turned, the referee didn't see any of the illegalities. With Matt ripe for a pin, Tom had to think fast. He rooted around under the ring until he found what he was looking for.

"Hey, Paul.. catch!"Tom tossed HHH his sledgehammer. Instinctively he caught it, but at the worst possible time. The ref turned around, saw the Game with the tool, Matt almost unconscious, and came to an erroneous conclusion and then signaled for the bell. He jumped out of the ring and whispered to the ring announcer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the bout as a result of a disqualification, the Four Aces."

The crowd roared their disapproval. The Aces stood in mid-ring, basking in the crowd's reaction, when a voice was heard over the jeers.

"Hey!"

Matt, Jeff, and Tom looked around, wondering where it was coming from. Jeff first noticed the two figures on the Titantron. His eyes bulged, and his mouth opened but no sound came forth. He grabbed Tom's sleeve and pointed frantically.

"What is it?" Tom demanded. Then he saw what was on the screen.

"Now that we have your attention." The camera tilted back to reveal the unconscious form of Randy on the floor in front of them. "There's some unfinished business between us."

Randy moaned loudly.

"Shut up you!" Evan punctuated this with several sharp kicks to Randy's ribs. With each blow, Matt's face went whiter until he looked like he was going to throw up.

"What do you want?" Matt yelled

"Revenge, pure and simple." Jack answered "It's about time you realized that you're not as powerful as you think you are. You can't just walk all over people because you don't like them."

"Walk all over people? You gotta be shittin' us." Jeff screamed

"We're dead serious." Evan replied

Randy groaned again. Tyler reared back and kicked him in the side hard enough to send him sprawling. Matt cringed.

"Please don't hurt him!" Matt begged, his voice cracking with emotion.

"You have our attention." Tom focused on the screen in front of him, knowing that if he dared to look at Matt he'd lose all control. "If you want revenge, we're standing right here."

"That would be too easy." Tyler interjected "This time, you are not calling the shots. We will have our revenge, but on our terms."

"And what exactly would those be?" Tom leaned against the near ropes and stared at the screen.

"Not yet... we'll see you at Smackdown." Evan answered "Don't even try to find us or Randy will not make it."

It took every ounce of Jeff's strength to keep Matt from running from the ring. The screen suddenly went back to the RAW logo.

A little shell-shocked, the trio left the ring. Upon their return to the dressing room, they saw that Randy wasn't the only one who'd been damaged. Their sanctum had been trashed as well.

"I wonder if this is what Linda had in mind when she agreed to let them return." Tom muttered aloud

"No, I did not!"

Tom whirled around at the sound of his boss. "Sorry... I didn't mean to imply..." He suddenly found his ring boots fascinating to look at.

"I understand completely." Linda sounded apologetic. "We will do whatever we can to help you get Randy back."

"Thanks for the kindness, but this is something we have to do." Jeff came over from where he'd been trying to talk soothingly to Matt, who was leaning against the lockers with his head in his hands.

"Mrs. McMahon," One of the sound engineers ran up to them, outta breath. "just wanted to let you know that we had nothing to do with this... they intercepted the feed."

"Great! Those idiots could be hiding almost anywhere!" Tom exclaimed

"You know how I feel about vigilantism." Linda huffed

"Don't worry about a thing. The Hardys will take care of this." Jeff promised.

Shaking her head in resignation, Linda left the ruins of the Aces' locker room. "Regardless, your match with Priceless will take place." She said

"How?" Tom queried "My partner is missing!"

"I'm sure you can get someone to fill-in. If not, you'll just have to forfeit."

Tom flinched at the word. Forfeiture was almost as bad as failure and that was unacceptable in the Aces' book.

"Fine... I'll find a partner. You two stay right here."

"But what about Randy?" Matt looked up, a horrified expression in his eyes.

"There is nothing we can do right now." Jeff crouched down, staring into Matt's dark eyes.

"Matty, listen to Jeffro for a change. They said Randy's as good as dead if we try anything. I don't necessarily believe them, but I do think they have some people here who would love to rat us out." Tom added "Now after the show, that's another story." He ran out of the locker room, desperately looking for a partner. But would anyone be willing to help? Since the three shows hadn't merged yet, there was no way he could get a hold of the one person he thought might be willing to partner with him: Jay.

...

Randy slowly opened his eyes, well, eye. One was swollen shut so he did the best he could. It didn't really matter either way since there was no light whatsoever wherever he was. He tried to sit up but he was unable to. His arms and legs had been tied together like a pig and he was helpless to move.

Eventually, he rolled over onto his side and that brought a little bit of feeling back into his tightly-bound extremities, but not enough to make him feel comfortable. Randy tried to take his mind off the pain by focusing on other things, like what the fuck had happened and where was he and how was he going to get out of this mess. Regrettably, he did not have an answer to any of those three questions.

He struggled until the pain in his arms became too much for him. He'd rubbed his wrists raw and was sure that the moisture he'd felt trickle across his palms was blood not sweat. Randy lay back and waited. Answers, rescue, whatever, he didn't care. All he knew is that he did not want to die here... alone, in this darkness that was now his home.

...

"Here are your winners... the team of Priceless!"

Being unable to find a partner, and not wanting to drag either Matt or Jeff back into the ring, Tom had gone out a fought a valiant handicap match against Randy's former stablemates. Alas, one man can not stand up to the combined talents of the two multi-generational stars, and like many before him, he fell. As he was being counted down, Tom realized that he didn't really care about this match. He wanted to get back to the people who needed him most. The second he was off-camera, he sprinted into the ruins of their locker room. Matt was still sitting in a corner, forlornly looking at a photo. Jeff was... well, what had happened to Tom's man? He did not want to think about the alternatives and hoped to God Jeff had gone for Skittles.

"Where's Jeff?" Tom voiced the question that only part of him wanted the answer to.

"Dunno." Matt continued to look at his picture. "Out." He justified.

Still in his sweat-soaked ring attire, Tom shoved an overturned bench out of the way and sat down beside Matt. Peering over his shoulder, he confirmed his suspicions about the photo before pulling Matt to rest against his body.

"Matt, I know it hurts, but there is nothing you can do for the next twenty-four hours. Until we find out what Evan and Jack want, we're helpless. I know it's not a feeling you like, and I sure as hell don't like it, but face it it's what we are right now." Tom stroked Matt's midnight hair, hoping some solace would be brought in his words.

"But why Tommy? Please tell me that?"

"Matty, you know how they operate. Remember last time... you, Shane, Shannon, Jay. Adam, fuck even Amy felt the wrath of these two. Maybe the thought of a new target was too much for them to resist." Tom held Matt tightly. The more Matt hurt, the angrier Tom got.

"Hey, stay away from my brother!"

Tom looked up at Jeff, brandishing Skittles at them.

"Whatchoo talkin' 'bout Jeffers?" Tom glared

"Oh, Tommy, sorry... I didn't recognize you." Jeff's bottom lip trembled and in that moment, Tom realized exactly how much this was affecting the youngest Hardy. "Imma got Skittles." He showed them the red packages as if that would make things all better.

"How could you not recognize me?" Tom demanded

"Guys, please don't argue." Matt begged, raising his red eyes to face them both. "I can't take much more of anything."

Jeff quickly curled up on the other side of Matt. Now being held between his brothers, Matt started to feel a little better. But that was until he looked at the picture of his missing loved one.

Tom quickly stood up, locked the door and turned off the lights. The brothers spent the rest of the night in each others arms, trying desperately to come to grips with the pile of shit that fate had dealt them. The arena was completely deserted by the time they finally decided to leave, partially due to Matt needing to have a good long cry to get back under control and partially due to Tom falling asleep.

"Tommy, wake up!" Jeff whispered into his husband's ear. "It's almost three a.m."

"So?" Tom groaned

"We have to get going before people start wondering about us." Jeff stated

"Just lemme sleep." Tom answered "I need it."

"We have a seven hour flight that leaves in three hours, and you smell like a rotting corpse." Jeff stood up, put his hands on his hips, and stared disapprovingly at Tom. It was like being back in grade school and being lectured by his teachers.

Tom sniffed himself and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Maybe he should've at least stripped out of his ring clothes before he fell asleep, but things had just been so physically and mentally taxing that his appearance wasn't high on his priority list. As his eyes accustomed themselves to the almost pitch blackness, he became aware that Jeff was holding out a clean pair of pants and a shirt for him. Tom graciously accepted them and quickly stripped.

"Pass me a towel."

"Shhh!" Jeff whispered "Matty's still asleep."

"Shouldn't we wake him up too?" Tom questioned.

"Not until we're ready to go." Jeff seemed to have everything under control because no sooner was Tom totally naked then he felt a warm towel rub across his skin, removing most of the sweat and oil that was still on him.

"Sheesh, I can dry myself." Tom tried to remove the towel, but Jeff shushed him.

"Relax, Tommy, this will get done faster if you stop squirming."

Tom noticed that while Jeff was drying him off, he seemed a little more interested in rubbing the towel across Tom's groin area.

"Jeff, what are you...?" Tom swallowed. Of all the times to get kinky, why now?

"I said shush!" Jeff crossed Tom's lips with his finger, continuing to rub down south. Before you could say 'inappropriate', Tom was throbbing with need. His genitals were now free of sweat, but Tom soon felt another wetness on them.

"Are you gonna be quiet while I do this or do you want to explain to Matty when you wake him up?"

Tom looked over his shoulder at the dozing form of his bro.

"I thought so." Jeff quickly swallowed Tom's length, taking him right down to his balls.

"Damn!" Tom mouthed, quickly latching on to Jeff's shoulders to prevent falling over.

Jeff's lips and tongue worked their magic over Tom's shaft and head, even dipping down to lick at his nutsack. Tom wanted to get this over with real fast, not that he was complaining, but because he didn't want to explain why now to Matt. Jeff seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to this and every time Tom felt his orgasm approach, Jeff would either slow down or stop completely.

"Jeffers, just finish me off!" Tom growled in a low voice.

"Patience, Tommers." Jeff licked the bulging vein down the back of Tom's cock and smiled sweetly."Imma gonna finish you, but not yet."

Matt suddenly moaned. Fearful that he was on the verge of waking up, Tom grabbed Jeff's head and brutally face-fucked him as hard as he could. After a few brief struggles, Jeff relented, allowing Tom to be rough with him for a change. Seeing Jeff surrender to him was all Tom needed to bring him to orgasm and he filled Jeff's mouth with his seed. Jeff continued to swallow until Tom had given it all to him.

Releasing his death grip from Jeff's shoulders, Tom pulled him into a tender kiss, tasting a little bit of himself.

"Tommy, dress." Jeff pulled away a little too quickly. "We have to get moving."

Tommy quickly threw on the jeans and shirt Jeff had gotten out for him (no underwear) and slipped his Aces jacket and shoes back on.

"Matty, we gotta go." Jeff gently shook his brother. "Matty?"

...

Matt mumbled softly, his frame tensing. "Please don't hurt him." He whispered

Jeff frowned. "I'm not hurting anyone... Matty, wake up!"

Matt's body tightened even further." Please... I love him." Even in his sleep, tears started to fall from his eyes.

Tom walked over, wondering what was taking Jeff so long and caught the last thing Matt said. His brow also furrowed, confusion as to what to do evident. He'd also been taught never to wake someone up during a nightmare.

"Tommy, what do I do?" Matt seemed to be having the same night terrors that had plagued Jeff once before.

"Hold him." Tom responded "You didn't bring Bunny with you?"

"I'm an Ace. I don't need Bunny with me!" Jeff protested with an exaggerated indignance that almost made Tom burst out laughing.

"Fortunately, I'm not as emotionally stable as you are." Tom stumbled over to his bag and pulled out Lizard. "Here."

Lizard made a short flight over to Hardy International, where he landed face-up for a change.

"Should I wake him?" Jeff asked

"Nuh-uh... let him either calm down or wake up on his own. Although it would be better if we woke him up, we're not supposed to. It could scare him even worse." Tom folded his arms and waited for a resolution.

Jeff tucked Lizard into the nape of Matt's neck and waited. No sooner had the soft toy touched Matt's skin, then Matt's entire frame jerked wildly. It was eerily similar to what Tom had witnessed not so long ago. His hands folded into claws and Tom thought that he was going to tear poor Lizard to shreds, but he didn't. Lizard found himself being held softly as Matt slowly woke up.

"Jeffro... Tommy? Where am I?" Disorientation was a common side effect of night terrors.

"In our locker room."

"R-R-Randy?" Matt looked at them with eyes that hoped.

Tom shook his head. "He's gone, Matty."

Matt's face fell. "It was terrible... there was blood and killing and hurting..." He rambled on for a while.

"We know." Tom whispered softly. "But there's nothing we can do right now. We'll get answers tomorrow at the SD taping. Right now, we have a flight to catch."

...

Tyler and Bourne arrived at the arena for the Smackdown tapings much earlier than even the Aces. Trying not to look out of place, they wheeled in a large trunk, similar to the ones used by production, but this one carried human cargo as opposed to mechanical.

"Explain to me again how this is going to work?" Tyler asked

"It's simple... we're just finishing what we started and that is telling the whole world that no one screws with Evan Bourne and gets away with it." Evan banged on the lid. "Right Randy?"

A muffled shout, sounding like the words "Let me out!", emanated from within.

"Oh we will... " Bourne teased "When the moment is right, everyone, especially those fuckin' Hardys, will see just what we are capable of."

They wheeled the case into a disused bathroom and waited.

Sleep on the plane flight in hadn't been an option since Matt was afraid to close his eyes lest the nightmares return. Tom and Jeff had stayed awake with him the entire time, except for maybe a ten minute snooze. The hotel hadn't been much of a diversion either. Matt moped around the room, alternating between anger and tears while Jeff (and Bunny and Lizard) tried to console him. Even Tom, who usually had the most control over his emotions, couldn't take his brother's swings. He sought out a private place to gather his thoughts.

The only place where he could even find peace was the hotel's laundry facilities. So he spent his time washing the Aces' ring gear and trying to come up with an idea for retribution. Two hours, and two loads later, he still had nothing. It was worse than having writer's block while trying to finalize his dissertation in college.

Folding Matt's jeans, he found a scrap of paper in the back pocket. Tom hoped it wasn't anything important since it had been freshly washed and dried. On it was a name and a phone number.

"Why didn't we think of this?" Tom raced back upstairs. Matt and Jeff were just as he'd left them: Matt bawling his eyes out on the bed and Jeff trying to be the strong one.

Jeff looked over, his eyes clearly demanding what had taken Tom so long.

Tom winked, then walked into the bathroom, beckoning for Jeff to follow.

"Be right back, Matty." Jeff patted his brother's back and joined his husband. "I hope you don't want a quickie."

"I need information." Tom answered "Specifically, what's your read on Eric?"

"Eric?" Jeff asked

"Matt's neighbor. Y'know... the ex-Navy SEAL." Tom explained

"I dunno. He seemed nice enough." Jeff replied "Why... wait a minute... are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"It's better if you don't think." Tom stated "That way, you can't get into trouble if this doesn't work."

"Imma gonna check on Matty." Jeff said; it was his way of saying "do what ya hafta do."

Using several deep breaths to calm his racing heart, Tom dialed the number on the sheet and waited for a response.

"Eric...? It's Tom Hardy. I got a job for you..."

TBC

_My original role for Eric is finally gonna get used... can he help the Hardys?_


	4. Daffodils

Daffodils

Smackdown opened with it's usual bells and whistles.

"We are coming to you tonight from Raleigh, North Carolina." JR yelled over the crowd noise. "Tonight, will we hear from Evan Bourne regarding the status of one Randy Orton after what happened on RAW?"

"It was supposed to be Orton and Baker against Priceless, but Bourne made sure that Randy would not make his match." JR continued his narration over the highlight package. "Well speak of the devil."

Evan and a smug-looking Jack Tyler marched down to the ring. It was a very strange reaction from the fans.

"Well, Raleigh, we promised answers and we're going to deliver... maybe." Bourne gloated "You see, Hardys, you thought you had it bad but tonight it's only gonna get worse..."

Backstage, Matt and Jeff paced. Tom was nearby, splitting his attention between the ring and his phone. He'd been talking about constantly with Eric, trying to come up with a plan to rescue Randy that might work.

"Without Orton, you guys are nothing." Tyler taunted "Jeff was never anything but a toy, but all these fans, as well as the entire locker room knows that already."

If it was possible for steam to vent from the human head, then Jeff's new ring name would be "The Enigmatic Teakettle".

"Relax, Jeffro." Matt wrapped his arms around his brother. Not that he needed to hold Jeff back, he just wanted to. "Wait for Tom to finish."

"The next TV taping is Monday in Albuquerque." Tom answered "Can you make it?"

Eric flipped through his calendar. "Dude, I got the whole week free right now."

"I'll catch up with you in Cameron when I can. Prolly Thursday." Tom mentally went through his day planner. "I'll give you a complete itinerary then."

"Works for me."

"I gotta go." It was nearing the time for their Aces to make their appearance.

Eric hung up, grinning evilly. He did feel a little sorry for Matt, but the last thing he wanted was them back together. Vince's earlier plan aside, Eric had developed feelings for the middle Hardy the second he'd seen him hanging on his fence.

"... so Hardys, if you want your precious Legend Killer back so badly, why don't you come out here and make us tell you where he is?" Evan taunted

As if Matt needed an invitation. The words had barely left Evan's lips when Matt and Jeff ran down to the ring, wicked intentions in their minds and forced smiles on their faces.

"We were starting to wonder what it was gonna take to get your sorry asses down here?" Tyler laughed

"We're here... where's Randy?" Matt demanded

"Whoa, tiger... not so fast." Evan answered "When we said Hardys, we meant ALL of them... until we see three Hardys in the ring, we ain't sayin' nothin'."

Matt and Jeff looked behind them. They'd thought Tom was with them.

"Tommy!" Matt shouted

After an intolerable pause, Tom finally appeared. Not because he wanted to be dramatic, but because he was afraid of what he might do.

"Come on down, Tommy." Evan gestured for him to enter the ring.

He remained at the top of the stage. "You seriously want me to come in there? After all the crap that the two of you have put my family through, I'd think you'd want nothing to do with me."

Evan and Jack whispered to each other. "You're all talk, Hardy." Evan shouted "Now get your ass in this ring or the deal is off!"

Tom took two steps forward and then stopped again. "Aren't you even a little bit concerned that I may do something that would make what I did to Tyler in the psych ward seem tame?"

Jack went a little white when the memories of the pain Tom had inflicted upon him returned.

"Dude, you lay one finger on either of us and..."

"Lemme guess, the deal is off?" Tom raised his eyebrow, curiously staring at the two. "How exactly do we find out what you've done to Randy?"

Another quick conversation between Tyler and Bourne. "How about a match?" Bourne suggested

"When we win, you tell us where Randy is!" Matt shouted

"You mean if." Evan corrected "When we win, Randy stays ours for a little bit longer."

"You're on." Jeff answered, tossing his jacket aside. Matt followed suit.

"Wait a minute. We're making the rules tonight." Bourne said "You'll fight when we're ready."

Theodore Long's music interrupted and he came out onstage.

"Much as I hate any animal being in captivity, I have to agree with Evan. You can't have a match right now."

Matt glared at the General Manager. Just the thought of his Randy being held in captivity was enough to make him seethe.

"First, we need to decide what kind of match it will be... it could be a cage match..."

The crowd roared.

"Or an 'I quit' match..."

Louder roars

"Or even a falls-count-anywhere match!"

The roars for this were the loudest.

"I'm gonna take a page out of Bob Barker's book playa. It's time for the Showcase Throwdown. Now on our big wheel is a number of different types of matches. You'll spin the wheel and it must go all the way around at least once or it doesn't count and you don't get to spin again." Teddy announced "And since Tom, you ain't gonna be in this, you'll spin to determine the stipulation."

Tom crossed his fingers and spun. He watched the different types of matches go by, hoping for a No-DQ match so he could get a few shots in. He watch the first blood match go by, the Texas death match pass, and his personal favorite: the tuxedo match flip by. That match would've been more fun for almost everyone else, Tom having seen all four competitors naked, hard, and in three cases, come, although Tyler had been close when Tom last saw him.

Teddy watched alongside. "Could be Hell in The Cell.... a little fast... here comes the submission match... there it goes... looks like..."

The wheel flipped over one more peg.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it will be the Hardy Boyz versus Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler in a Tables-Ladders-and-Chairs Match." Teddy announced "Holla holla."

Matt and Jeff looked at each other and smiled. From the stage, Tom was also happy. At least his brothers would get their hands on Bourne and Tyler, leaving Tom to do some snooping backstage, on the small chance that Randy was held captive somewhere nearby. It made sense; why leave their precious somewhere somebody might find him?

"What about him?" Bourne shouted from the stage. "We don't want him involved!"

Any chance of snooping went out the window right that moment.

"Yeah." Tyler sneered "If he sticks his face in this, the deal is off."

"Fine. If it'll keep y'all happy, I'll stick him in a match with... the Miz!"

"What the hell?" Tom shouted "The Miz! Isn't he..."

"I'll explain in the back." Long strutted off the stage, leaving a very anxious Matt and Jeff and a very pissed-off Tom staring at Evan and Jack.

Shaking his head in disgust, Tom followed the GM backstage.

"You always concede to a pair of thugs?" Tom spat

"Look, I know what's goin' on with you guys and I feel for ya, playa, but I can't let the inmates run the asylum..."

"But the Miz? Since when do I get babysitting duty?" Miz's ring work as of late had been spotty. He'd recently been told by Shane-O Mac that he had two options... get his act together on Smackdown or take his tights and go home.

"Tommy, listen. Despite this Aces thing, a lotta guys still trust ya. Somethin's up with Miz. Maybe you can draw him out." Teddy pleaded

"You just better hope that Matt and Jeff win. If I smell another screw job, you'll be the next on our hit list." Tom wagged his finger at Long, then set off to find his pet project.

"You're on in twenty minutes, so you better hurry."

"The things I do." Tom growled

He checked the main locker room. No Miz. He looked in catering. No Miz. He searched the bathrooms, male and female. No Miz. And the stupid thing was, no one had seen him.

"Miz?" Tom started looking in the smaller locker rooms. No sign of Mike, but Tom found his travel bag in one of them. Mike's date book was on top.

"Oh well..." Tom leafed through it. Nothing unusual, other than it was a two year book. Mike habitually listed his flights and match schedules, as Tom found out when he flipped back a few pages, but the only thing listed today was the words "ONE YEAR".

"One year?" Tom asked, then an idea came to him. He leafed back to the page from that date one year ago. Again, nothing work-related was listed, just the notation. 'J.M. RIP!!!' and a sad face.

"Of course." Tom kicked himself. It was obvious what was causing the distractions, but everyone was too busy to see it.

"Shit!" Tom swore

"You always look through people's stuff when they're not around?"

Tom jumped at the voice.

"Not usually..."

Mike snatched his book from Tom and tucked it in the bag. "They must really hate me. I gotta fight you."

Tom ignored that comment. "One year, huh?"

Mike's face went crimson. "You asshole!" He lunged at Tom, fists flying.

"Easy, Mike." Tom grabbed Mike's arm and twisted it behind him, pushing him against the wall. "Look the reason, and the only reason, that I'm your opponent is some bullshit about how a lotta the guys still like me, and since we have to put a match together there might be a chance that you'll tell me what the hell is wrong." He pushed Mike away from the wall. "But I think I have a good idea."

"What do you care anyway... you're like everyone else in this company!"

"Not true... everyone else in this company isn't married to his brother." Tom replied

That was meant to get a laugh, but Miz didn't oblige, instead sitting on a bench with his chin in his hands.

"You were really close with Morrison, weren't you?" Tom sat down beside Mike. It was hard to believe that one year had passed since Jeff had taken matters into his own hands.

"Duh!" Mike answered

"You know, maybe if you had said something to someone earlier, maybe things wouldn't seem as hopeless?" Tom said

"You wrestled within days of your momma dyin', what would you know about it?" Mike's face was getting redder with each sentence and Tom had a hunch that he was gonna explode into either violence or tears very soon. He braced himself for either eventuality.

"Only because I had two brothers who really cared about me." Tom answered "And can I talk to Mike for a few minutes, not 'The Miz', please?"

When he did finally turn his head, the arrogance of The Miz was gone.

Tom took a deep breath. He did not want to come off condescending, but he also couldn't tell Mike what really happened. The case was still open as far as he knew. "Morrison did not deserve what happened to him. I was raised that the taking of a life is wrong, no matter what the circumstances. But things happen and I've learned that instead of dwelling on the sadness, remember all the good times... I'm sure you had many, right?" He raised his eyebrow.

Mike nodded sullenly.

"How about we find a way to make you happy again?"

"Bring Johnny back?" Mike suggested

"I wish I could." Tom almost laughed, but caught himself in time. "I ain't supposed to do this since we're doin' this whole domination angle, but how about I put you over?"

"Clean?" Mike asked, his shoulders starting to shake.

"However you want." Tom gently patted his shoulder. "Think of it as my way of saying goodbye to JoMo since I never had the chance."

...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall..."

Backstage, Evan and Jack were waiting for the match between the Miz and Tom to get underway.

"Stroke of genius, getting Long to set up that match with the Miz." Evan laughed

"Exactly." Tyler slapped hands with his partner in crime. "You talked to Miz?"

"Yeah. He knows what to do." Evan answered

"First, representing the Four Aces. From the City of the Angels, weighing two hundred sixty pounds, Tom Baker!"

Tom walked out, enjoying the reaction from the crowd. Despised one week, cheered the next; he loved it that the WWE universe didn't know if they were coming or going.

"...and his opponent, from Cleveland Ohio, weighing two hundred thirty one pounds... the Miz!"

It was a special night already, but even more special for the Miz. Tom had said a few other things to him backstage and this brought out a different Miz. Gone were the trunks and back was the outfit he'd worn when tagging with the late John Morrison, including fedora, gloves, and a black armband with JOMO on it. Even the music was the old stuff.

Tom nodded serenely. He wasn't sure how many fans would remember, but he wasn't going to ruin the moment. At least not until the match started.

They met in the middle of the ring and started jaw-jacking at each other. Tom mouthed something that sounded like 'yeah, right', then flipped the hat off Miz's head, followed by a standing clothesline.

Tom stomped the Miz into the mat, and would've kept on stomping if Mike hadn't suddenly spun and caught his foot, flipping Tom to one side. He sprawled near the ropes, wondering if returning to the ring as a stipulation had been such a good idea. He felt a tweak in his knee when he landed.

"Dammit!" Tom swore quietly. "If it's not one thing with this body, it's another!"

Miz backed Tom against the ropes and unfortunately went after his other knee. Now both of Tom's joints were starting to throb.

"Easy, Mike, jeez!" Tom whispered

"Sorry, Tommy, but I made a deal!" Miz replied

"What kind of deal?" Tom asked

"I promised Evan I'd take you out of the picture." He said softly. "But..."

"But what?" Tom prepared to go insane on his ass. Putting Mike over dropped to the bottom of his niceness list.

"After how nice you were, I dunno if I can." Mike said this while ramming his elbow into Tom's solar plexus several times. "Everyone else treated me like a brat having a tantrum."

"Well, I'm sure we can come up with something." Tom reversed an Irish whip and knocked Mike down with a shoulder tackle. He quickly covered Miz, who kicked out on one.

"What exactly did they want you to do?" Tom asked, while sending Mike into the ropes. This time he reversed the whip and knocked Tom down.

"Take you out. Make sure you wouldn't be able to interfere in their match with Matt and Jeff." Mike responded

"Okay. This might make it impossible for me to put you over!" Tom whispered while ducking a wild punch and setting the Miz up for an atomic drop.

"I know. " Mike replied "You don't have to..."

Out of nowhere, Tom reversed the atomic drop into the Insanity. Miz saw it coming, but he was unable to do anything before his chin met the mat. Tom jumped out of the ring and grabbed a chair. The fans started screaming for the Miz to get up when Tom rolled into the ring and lined up Mike's head with the gray instrument.

Tom arced the chair toward Mike, but just as it began it's descent, the referee grabbed it from his hands.

"What the fuck?" Tom looked at him like he could not believe what he'd just done.

"No chairs."

"Well fuck you." Tom hit the ref with the Insanity as well, then looked for the chair. It was gone. "What the..."

Mike had the chair and teed off on Tom's skull with it.

"Nice." Tom thought, even though he couldn't hear his own thoughts through the ringing in his ears. "I didn't think you swung like that."

Tom slowly got to his feet. Miz was waiting and it was time for a Reality Check. A secondary referee came down and counted one two three. While the count was being made, Miz said one word. "Thanks."

"Here is your winner... The Miz!"

Tom lay in the middle of the ring, letting the Miz play to the crowd. While the referee helped his striped compatriot back to the locker room, Tom's wheels spun, as was his head right then.

Giving a good show of taunting the Miz as he staggered back to the locker room, Tom immediately looked for a trainer.

"Tylenol?" He asked "Or something stronger if you have it?"

"Shot of JD?" The trainer laughed.

"I'm not Jeff." Tom groaned, feeling his head throb painfully. Miz had done a real good job with the chair. "On second thought..."

"Here." Two small white pills and a bottle of water were handed to Tom, who took them gratefully. He was also offered a cold towel, which was also accepted.

"Just relax for ten minutes." The trainer suggested "Let the bad man with the hammer go away."

Tom laughed. He now had an answer to one of life's nagging questions: 'Why did all the guys act like six year olds when they got hurt?' He now knew.

The lights dimmed slightly.

"Thanks." Tom adjusted the towel to cover his entire face and breathed deeply, already feeling the pills start to work. His headache was actually almost gone when someone else banged loudly on the door of the trainer's room, exacerbating it.

"Relax. I'll get it." It was Mike.

"Tommy in here?"

"Yes, but he's resting."

"It's okay, Doc." Tom sat up. "Most of the pain is gone."

"Walk ya back?" Mike offered

"What the hell. Thanks doc." Tom looked at Mike's goofy grin and went a little weak in the knees. "I'm cool." He added upon seeing the trainer's and Mike's expressions.

Tom and the Miz walked out of the trainer's room and toward the Aces locker room, but didn't make it right away.

"Someplace we can talk?" Mike asked

"Sure." Tom wondered what else could be bothering the former star of 'The Real World'.

Tom followed Mike back into his locker room. Just as they were going in, he caught a glimpse of Matt and Jeff heading to the ring for their TLC match against Evan and Jack. He nodded discreetly.

"Dude, I just wanted to thank you again." Mike wiped one of his sweaty palms on his pants and offered it to Tom.

"Just don't think the Aces are gonna let you off this easily." Tom laughed "This ain't the NWO... we ain't lettin' ya join us so we won't kick you ass any more."

Mike also laughed, then his expression went serious.

"I really do miss JoMo though." He sighed

"We all do. I wish they'd close the case soon so there could be some sort of closure." It was a total lie, but an acceptable one in Tom's opinion.

"Yeah." Something in the Miz's eyes told him all he needed to know.

"You two were together, weren't you?" Tom straddled a bench.

Not a sound, but the eyes again answered Tom.

Mike swallowed loudly. "Last thing we said to each other was we needed a break. Then I hear he's fuckin' your brother."

"That sums up their relationship." Visions of oral on a hotel room couch flashed dangerously through Tom's memory banks. "Dude, you know I had no fuckin' clue." Tom responded "If I had, maybe things wouldn't have gotten so..."

"Don't sweat it. We make our own choices." Mike looked like he wanted to say something else, but a loud banging on the door cut him off.

"You in there Miz."

"Oh fuck!" Evan's voice was quickly recognized by Tom.

"Here." Miz opened the door to his locker and Tom took a deep breath and squeezed himself in.

As soon as Tom was secure, although how secure he could be crammed into a small space with the Miz's gear was a topic best left for drunken binges.

"Good job, Miz." Evan said "You showed that fuckin' Hardy we're not fuckin' around."

Tyler nodded his approval.

"Liked the whole Morrison tribute thing. It really made the fans turn." He said

"Had to do something." Miz shrugged "I wasn't gonna let those four Asses get any more cred."

"Anyway, keep an eye on Tom while we take care of Matt and Jeff." Evan ordered

"Yessir." Miz saluted

In the locker, Tom was pissed. He had half a mind to kick the door open and take all three of them out, but Randy was more important.

He waited to hear the door click shut behind them.

"Sorry about..." Tom's fist meeting Miz's cheek cut off his apology.

"You fuckin' with me, Miz?" Tom shouted

"Tom, I..."

"Start explaining before you get a reality check." Tom pushed Mike against the wall.

"I had to!" he squealed "They threatened to tell the police that I had something to do with Morrison's death. They've been holding that over me for months!!!" Mike looked scared; whether it was of Tyler and Bourne or doing jail time, Tom didn't know and really didn't care. His hatred for Jack and Evan was growing exponentially by the day. "Please Tom? You're the only person who's given a shit about me recently..." Mike started blubbering.

Tom winced, his jaw tightening. "You're really that scared of those two jackmules?"

Mike nodded, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes and nose.

"Tell them I hit you."

"What?"

"Tell them I hit you." Tom repeated, strolling toward the door.

"Oh." Mike understood

Tom saluted then as inconspicuously as he could, crept back to the Aces' locker room. One glance at a monitor as he passed gave him all the information he needed. The TLC match had started.

"That gives me maybe fifteen, twenty minutes tops." Tom was still under the assumption that Randy was being held captive somewhere in the arena. It made sense, after all. Bourne and Tyler would want their prize someplace close so they could keep an eye on him.

"Time to snoop." Tom quickly slipped into something a little less Ace-like. A black WWE crew t-shirt was all he needed. Less chance arousing suspicion if he looked like he belonged.

While everyone else's focus was on the ring, Tom's was on the many packing crates stashed in the back. It was the only logical place Randy could be hidden if his assumptions were correct, and they usually were.

"Orton, you around here?" Tom shouted hoarsely.

Randy kept having this vivid dream that he had been kidnapped, beaten, and locked in a trunk at an arena. Every time he woke up, he realized that it wasn't a dream and that made him hurt more than the physical punishment he'd endured. Tyler and Bourne seemed to enjoy getting their rocks off by beating him every chance they got. This dream was different, however. He'd finally dreamed that someone was looking for him. His throat completely parched from lack of water, Bourne gave him a one liter bottle a day and that was it, it was all he could do to bang weakly on the lid of his prison.

As Tom went along, he banged on each crate, hoping for some signal that he was on the right path, but there were a lot of boxes and Randy could be in any one of them.

Maybe halfway through, Tom was interrupted. The match was over.

"Dammit! Randy, if you are here, I'm sorry!" Tom took off in the other direction.

...

"The winners of the TLC match... Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler!"

The crowd weren't the only people shocked by the outcome. Matt and Jeff had everything under control (or so they thought) until Matt and Jeff had tried to use their Event Omega finisher on Evan. They missed and Evan went air on Matt, diving off a ladder and splatting him through a table. From there, Jack held off Jeff while Evan made a leisurely cover, waving bye-bye to Jeff as the ref counted three.

"No!!!" Jeff screamed.

Evan and Jack left the ring, arm raised in victory. At the top of the stage, they turned and flipped the bird at the Hardys, the crowd, and everyone watching at home.

"Matty, you okay?" Jeff cared more about his brother's welfare than his opponents' showboating. He seemed shaken.

"I fucked up Jeffro. Now we'll never get Randy back."

Jeff knelt beside his brother. To his shock and horror, he saw that Matt was crying. Jeff's face contorted into a scowl and he clenched his fists in anger. No one made his Matty cry and got away with it.

"Aww..." Jeff heard a taunting voice from the stage. "Is poor Matty a little sad? WAH! WAH! WAH!" Bourne mimicked the crying that Matt was doing in the ring. "You guys are pathetic. I'm tempted to just tell you where Randy is so we don't have to put up with this anymore... but I'm not gonna."

Matt looked up, tears running down his cheeks in rivers. "Please." He mouthed

"Did you hear that? Please, he said." Bourne continued to taunt Matt and Jeff. "We won that match and as the stipulation, we don't have to say Jack. You want Randy back, you'll have to earn it..."

Evan's voice was cut off by the opening beats of "Go Insane". Their mouths both dropped open in an "o" when Tom appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, a chair in his hands.

"Hey. We said you couldn't interfere." Evan and Jack backed away.

"Last time I checked, the match was over." Tom waved the chair in their direction.

"So it was... we're outta here." Without turning their backs on Tom, Evan and Jack hurried backstage.

Torn between pursuit and taking care of Matt, Tom chose the latter for the simple reasons that it could be a setup; running after the two of them blindly was not the smartest option, as well as Matt looked like he needed both of them a lot more. Even while he jogged to the ring, Tom was thinking. He might need to call Eric and push their meeting forward.

"What?" Tom realized that Jeff had been staring at him.

"I know that look." Jeff replied "You're thinking about something big."

"Don't worry, Jeff. I got a plan." Tom smiled "And this one won't fail."

TBC

_Sorry for the delay, but I got caught in a "Crossfire". Coming up next, the first-ever fanfic version of "Win the Shot, Call the Spot". (I think!)_


	5. Sunflowers

Sunflowers

"Explain to me how this is gonna make me feel better again?" Matt asked

"Simple. We're all gonna get real fuckin' drunk, do real stupid things, and film it all so some day we can look back on it and laugh." Jeff replied, setting up several bottles on the bar in his and Tom's suite.

"Guys, I dunno if I'm up for this." Matt dropped into a chair.

"Fine... you can be the judge." Jeff said, undeterred that Matty didn't want to join in a game of "Win the Shot, Call the Spot." "We got enough as it is."

Miz, Shannon Moore, Shane, and Dolph Ziggler all looked around, Miz and Ziggler a little confused.

"Rules are simple. First one to finish their shot, calls the spot. It can be ANYTHING!!!" Jeff giggled.

Matt looked around. The sight of all that liquor was tempting to say the least, but he was sad.

"You sure, Matt?" Tom asked "I ain't forcing you, but... oh great!"

Tom's phone rang. He stepped into the kitchen to take the call while Miz and Ziggler started the game off.

"Three... two... one!" Matt counted

Miz and Ziggles slammed their shots.

"Miz."

Mike thought about what he could make Dolph do. It was early, so he decided to start out with something mildly only embarrassing. "You gotta shave my name into the back o' your head."

Dolph's eyes bugged out. His hair was one of the many things he was self-conscious about. Wouldn't you be if you'd started your career as a male cheerleader???

"Bathroom." Jeff pointed

Grinning sadistically, Miz followed Ziggler into the bathroom. Seconds later, the sound of the electric clippers and the occasional curse from Dolph wafted into the main room.

...

"I think you're right. The best chance we got is to tail those two. They ain't gonna let Orton out of their sight any more than necessary." Eric agreed with Tom's assessment of the situation.

"What d'you propose?" Tom asked

"I'll tail them tomorrow and hook up with you at Superstars." Eric stated

"Jeff and I'll be there. I'm not sure about Matt. He's pretty worn down." Tom answered "We're trying to perk him up, but it ain't easy."

"No probs. I'll see you Thursday." Eric answered, hanging up the phone and turning to his laptop. "So they were there and the taping is here." He drew a straight line between the two points. "If those two are smart, which is debatable to say the least, then they should pass through Des Moines on their way. I just have to get there before them."

Eric called the airport and quickly made reservations for the next flight out. Meanwhile, back at the bar, Shane and Shannon had lost the next two rounds. Shane had to have the Superman insignia drawn on his chest and Shannon had to knock on someone's door naked.

"Me 'n you, Tommers." Jeff giggled happily, pouring out the next two shots.

"Piece of cake." Tom eyed the liquor, delicious thoughts of what he was going to make his husband do.

"Three two one... slam it!"

Tom and Jeff hit the bar with their glasses at almost the same time. They waited for Matt to rule.

"Tom by a half-second."

Tom grinned and Jeff tittered nervously. Tom was well-known for his sick sense of humor. (Just ask Chris Jericho, who'd had to table dance at a local bar after losing a bet with him! Although for a white guy, Chris could really shake his groove thing.)

"Okay, Jeffro, since Matty isn't feeling too happy, you gotta go cheer him up." Tom said "By any means necessary!"

"I think this is our cue to go?" Miz said

"Oh hell no. Jeffers loves to perform in front of a crowd, don't ya?" Tom chuckled. Now that they were a couple, Tom was a lot less likely to blow a gasket when Jeff did something like that.

"Mmm..." Jeff purred, slinking over to Matt and running a finger down his chest. "Matty needs some cheering up for sure."

They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of another phone, but this time it was Matt's.

"I'll get it." Matt started to push Jeff away.

"Oh, hell no." Tom intercepted the call. "This one's for you." He stepped away from the action, so as not to detract from the performance.

"Hardy." He answered the phone, keeping one eye on the show.

"Matty? It's me... Randy." The voice sounded weak and far away.

"It's Tom, but..."

"I'm okay for now..." The phone was rudely snatched away from Randy. Tom heard a thud followed by a shout of pain.

"Just wanted to let you know that your lover is still alive." The voice that spoke next made Tom's eyes scrunch together and the hand that was not holding the phone clench into a fist.

"What the hell do you want?" Tom prayed that neither Evan nor Jack realized that it wasn't Matt they were speaking to.

"We had so much fun on Smackdown that we're gonna do it again. Raw. We have a special surprise for you."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "What kinda surprise?" he demanded

"If I toldja, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it. Just make sure you and those cocksucking brothers of yours are there." The line abruptly went dead.

"Who was that?" Matt gasped. Jeff's performance was stimulating enough to make Matt forget, though briefly.

"The office." Tom lied "They've changed the run sheet for Raw."

"Oh." Matt's voice rose a little. Jeff was doing the dance he usually did on the ramp, but only in lap form.

"They're not sayin' much right now."

"Why not... okay Jeff, I feel much better." Matt pushed Jeff off of his lap.

"I can see that, BIG brother." Jeff sniggered

Matt looked down, a little embarrassed, but since they were all gonna be real drunk by the end of the night, he didn't care.

"So why did they change the run?" Matt asked

"It's a little hard to explain. We'll talk in the morning. Next round?" Tom was desperate to take Matt's mind to another place. Maybe the hangover would help them all forget.

...

"Matty sounded a little angrier than usual." Tyler turned to Evan, smirking deviously.

"You sure it was Matt you were talking to?" Evan asked "Maybe they got the cops involved."

"After the beatings we administered on all three of them? I don't think so. That was definitely Matt." Tyler triumphantly grabbed two bottles of beer from a nearby case.

"Wanna drink?" Tyler asked

"Damn straight!"

"Not you, jackass! Our visitor." Nearby, Randy was tied to the bed frame, the welts and bruises on his body becoming more pronounced as time went by.

Randy whimpered. He was in too much pain to think straight. After several days in a steamer trunk, his arms and legs tied behind him painfully, the feeling still hadn't returned to his hands and feet. Tyler had to hold the phone to his mouth so he could lie to whom they thought was Matt.

"Was that a yes?"

Randy whimpered again.

"You'll answer me when I talk to you." Tyler hauled off and slapped Randy across the mouth, splitting open his bone-dry lips. Randy tasted the coppery blood on his tongue and it was Ambrosia-like in its harsh flavor. Tyler and Evan had not been the most reliable when it came to feeding Randy.

"Fuck you!" Randy found the strength to yell.

"Well, fuck you too!" Tyler slapped Randy again, hard enough to make the chains holding him secure rattle. "That's the last time I'm nice to ya!"

"When were you ever nice to the queer?" Evan demanded, helping himself to a beer.

"In my dreams, maybe." Jack shrugged, capping one of the bottles for himself and leaving the other one on the bedside table, just out of Randy's reach.

"I thought your dreams involved fucking him." Evan inquired

"Yeah, but I fucked him nicely. That reminds me..." Jack laughed, while Randy looked on horrified.

"Tyler, we agreed that we weren't gonna damage him like that until just before we sent him back." Evan interjected

"Can't I just have a little fun with him?" Jack traced along Randy's thigh with the cold beer bottle. Even through the thick jeans, Randy still felt it and shivered unwillingly.

"Okay, a little. I think we're outta mix anyway." Evan grabbed his jacket. "Later, Tyler."

"Just don't be seen. Least of all by those fuckin' Hardys."

"Yessir." Evan saluted comically before leaving the room, the door beeping as it locked.

Jack stared at Randy, slowly dragging his fingernails across the rough surface of his jeans, now stained with dust, dirt, and some of Randy's own blood.

"Orton, I gotta say that regardless of what you think, Bourne is calling all the shots." His fingers walked to the top of Randy's thigh then back down. "I personally don't know why the hell I let him drag me into this shit in the first place."

"Revenge?" Randy whispered

"Prolly." Tyler looked at Randy and, for the first time since his capture, appeared to care. "But why you? I mean, we both despise Tom and Jeff, but we really don't give a rat's ass about Matt either way... ah, fuck it... you know you stink?" He wrinkled his nose.

Randy shrugged. He had been wearing the same clothes since his capture.

"If you promise not to do anything real stupid, then I'll let you have a shower." Tyler offered

Randy nodded. Man, would a shower sound good.

"Okay... I'll unchain your hands, but I shouldn't have to warn you about what will happen if you do act heroic. Do you understand me?"

A weak nod from Orton. In his current state, he barely had the energy to bring his hands together to allow Tyler to unlock them.

"Good." As soon as his hands were unlocked from the headboard, Tyler grabbed them and relocked the cuffs so that Randy's hands were still together, but at least they were in a semi-comfortable position. Tyler repeated this with Randy's feet.

"Okay Cassidy, let's Hopalong to the shower." Tyler supported Randy until they got to the bathroom, then he pushed him inside, Tyler following.

"What are you doing?" Randy asked when Tyler brought out a knife and waved it at him.

"You shower in your clothes, do ya?" Tyler brought the blade across the fabric of Randy's shirt and effortlessly cut it of him. He repeated the process with Randy's jeans and boxers, then yanked off his shoes and socks.

Randy stood in front of Tyler, naked, sore, bruised, and bloody and waited for whatever fate had in store for him.

"Step in... don't worry about your clothes, I'll find something for you to wear by the time you're finished." Tyler gestured with the knife for Randy to get in.

With a little difficulty due to his chained feet, Randy finally stepped in. Jack ran the water briefly before turning the shower on.

"Pffft!" Randy sputtered with a face full of freezing water.

"Warm enough?" Tyler laughed then added just enough hot to moderately remove the chill.

"Wh-wh-what do you think?" Randy chattered. As the water warmed up, Randy allowed it to drip down his body, removing some of the dirt and grime from his body but not nearly enough to make him feel clean.

With his hands still cuffed, Randy wondered how he was going to clean some parts of himself, or even dry off, but that was soon pushed from his mind when the curtain was rudely jerked back and Tyler stood there, now also naked.

"You say a word to anyone and your clothes won't be the only things that l slit tonight." Tyler stepped in behind him and took the soap in hand and briskly started rubbing it across Randy's back and neck. This went on for five or so minutes until Randy was roughly turned around to allow the spray to wash the suds off him. He though nothing of the soapy hands running across his chest until they started going lower and lower until they had gripped his cock and were rubbing it hard.

"No fair that Evan's going to get to have all the fun, is it?" Tyler whispered into Randy's neck, his lips dancing across the smooth skin of his chest while his hands were busy elsewhere.

Despite his mind forcefully telling him that this was wrong, Randy could not stop his body from responding to the touches. It had been far too long since any sort of intimate contact had come his way.

"No! Please don't..." He begged, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Tyler replied "Once Evan returns, he has his heart set on that little pucker of yours and I won't be able to prevent him from taking what he wants."

Randy's eyes widened in terror at that thought. Well, more like the thought of it not being Matt to take his virginity that way. Then his mind snapped back when a bolt of pleasure ripped through his system when Jack stimulated his prostate from the outside. His knees sagged a little.

"Wha'd I tell ya?" Tyler continued the double stimulation for several moments, driving Randy toward a messy conclusion.

"Unghhh!" Randy gritted his teeth, trying to deter the sensations that were threatening to take over his system.

"Just let yourself go. There's nothing wrong with giving yourself in to pleasure." Tyler's long fingers pushed at Randy's nerve endings.

"Not like this!" Randy's mind tried to drag him away but he was too close to go back. Crying out loudly, Randy came, splattering his goo against Tyler's chest and abs.

Tyler looked down. "Not bad for someone who didn't want it." Quickly washing the residue from his torso, he stepped out and just as speedily toweled off.

"Dry yourself off and I'll get some clean clothes for you. Five minutes."

Randy hopped out of the stall, still chained up, and grabbed a towel from the stack. He dried off as best he could, then briskly rubbed his hair. He looked at his reflection in the steamy-covered mirror and immediately started to cry. He wanted Matt beside him... he would've settled for even Jeff or Tom right then, but there he was stuck in a cheap motel and, if Tyler was right and Orton had no reason not to believe him, about to become Evan Bourne's personal fuck-toy.

A bang on the door interrupted him.

"Time!" Tyler yelled

Randy quickly wiped the tears from his face. There was no way he was going to allow either of them to see him like this.

"I thought maybe you'd decided to take the chicken way out." Tyler joked "I'm going to unchain you again so you can get dressed. Try anything and you die." He gestured with the knife point toward the bed. Upon it were laid a clean pair of pants and a shirt as well as socks and underwear.

Without taking his eyes from Randy's, the shackles were unlocked and to Randy's surprise, tossed aside.

"No sense putting these on again. We're leaving as soon as Evan gets back." Tyler sat down nearby and opened another beer.

Randy looked at the open beer, drawing his parched tongue across the surface of his split lips.

Jack sighed. "For a kidnapper, I'm too fuckin' nice." He handed the full bottle to Randy and grabbed a new one for himself. Randy chugged it greedily.

"Slow the fuck down. It's the only one you're getting." Tyler briefly wondered what Evan was going to think if he came in and saw the two of them drinking like old college buddies, but he suddenly didn't really care.

"What exactly do you see in Matt?" Jack had no idea where the question came from, or why he even cared enough to ask, but the silence in the room was overwhelming.

Randy looked over. "What the fuck business is it of yours anyway?"

Tyler looked back at Randy. "Don't take that fuckin' tone with me 'less you want me to crack this bottle over yah head. Send you back to yer precious Matty in pieces." He was starting to get a little intoxicated.

Buzzed or not, Randy believed him. "Well..." he said

...

"Hurricane!" Tom announced

"Dammit!" Shannon slammed the shot glass down. After getting the lap dance from Jeff, Matt's spirits had brightened enough to make him want to join in the game immediately. With Matt in, Tom had volunteered to sit out, and mainly in case there were any more interruptions.

"Call the spot, oh costumed one!" Shannon had lost every round he'd played and was getting frustrated.

"Holy don't rush me!" The drunker Shane got, the more of the Hurricane he became.

"Wish I could win once for a change." Shannon sulked

"Mebbe if you weren't such a lightweight, you would." Dolph chuckled

"I'm not drunk!" Shannon protested.

"In that case, there's something I've always wanted to see." Shane grinned viciously. "Pick someone in the room and blow him."

Several mouths opened in shock. Shannon's for actually having to do this, Matt's for hearing Shane suggest this, and Shane's when Shannon picked him as the recipient by immediately kneeling in front of him.

"Someone needs to record this for posterity." Tom stretched his legs out.

"Or for blackmail." Jeff draped his drunk body over Tom's and started kissing him.

"Get yer drunk ass offa me!" Tom playfully pushed Jeff aside.

"Imma not drunk." Jeff protested, gently slapping his cheek.

"You're not drunk!" Tom slapped him a little harder.

"No, you're not drunk!" Jeff returned the slap, a little harder still. This went on for several minutes, the slaps escalating each time, until both their faces were really red.

"That's it... you're not drunk!" Tom hit Jeff with the Insanity.

Jeff bounced up immediately. "No, you're not drunk." A standing whisper in the wind.

"Oh really?" Tom stood right back up. "You're not drunk." Twist of fate.

"No you're not drunk." Jeff jumped on top of the bar and Swantoned onto his husband.

"No, you're not drunk." Tom rolled his eyes, impersonating Mark, and grabbed Jeff around the throat.

"Can we just agree that you're both not drunk so I can blow Shane and get this over with." Shannon protested

Jeff and Tom looked at each other. "We're not drunk." They said in unison.

...

Randy kept one eye on Tyler and the other eye on the door. Maybe if Evan took a real long time to get the mix, then just maybe he could get Jack really wasted and sneak out. The empties were starting to pile up, and save the one beer Tyler had offered him, Randy was completely sober.

"Yah never answered mah fuckin' question. What do ya see in Matt?"

"For one thing, he treats me the way I want to be treated." Matt retorted "He's always there for me and he was willing to give up his entire career to be with me."

Tyler snorted. "If Evan has his way, you won't be going back to Hardy, ya know that?" His eyes narrowed. He seemed to be debating whether or not he should be continuing this conversation.

Randy suddenly became extremely nervous. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Evan has plans for you. To put it plainly, you'll be lucky if you survive Raw." Tyler said, then rolled off the bed. "You done with that beer?"

Randy looked at the bottle. "Yeah, but..."

"Gotta make the shit look good." Tyler dangled the set of handcuffs in front of Randy's face.

"But you said..."

"Evan's taking his sweet ass time, so I ain't takin' no fuckin' chances. Put your fuckin' hands out before I blade ya."

Even in this inebriated state, Randy had no doubt that Jack was more than willing and able to carry out this latest threat. He allowed himself to be chained to the bed again.

"Now we wait." Tyler guffawed, then turned on the television very loudly.

Thoughts of what Evan had in store for him flooded his mind and this time, the tears flowed freely. He didn't care if anyone saw, or if it made him seem pathetic. He had never been so scared in his life.

...

"Wow!" Miz whispered in Dolph's ear. Everyone in the room, and I mean EVERYONE, was grossly involved in the latest spot, this one featuring the cuter two-thirds of the band 3-count.

"Yeah." Dolph whispered back. "I gotta start hangin' around these guys a lot more."

Shane was in heaven. Shannon's nimble fingles had exposed his Hurri-crotch and his mouth soon brought it to attention. Everyone else was at least watching, and in the case of Matt, tracing his own erection through his jeans.

"Makes me wanna join in!" Dolph whispered

"I'm game if you are." Miz replied, much to Mr. Ziggles' surprise. Seeing the confusion in Dolph's eyes, Mike took his hand and brought it to his own groin. "Go ahead." He whispered. That was all the permission he needed, kneading it softly.

From where Tom was sucking face with Jeff, he saw the other two get involved and it brought a titter from his lips. With his eyes, he motioned over there and dipped Jeff so he could get a better view. Jeff's eyes widened and he smiled around Tom's lips.

"Told ya so." He mouthed

"Shhh..." Tom shut him up with his tongue, while his hands began removing all unnecessary articles of clothing. In Jeff's case, that was all of them.

Ziggler saw what Tom and Jeff were doing, and took that to mean that Mike's clothes should also make a hasty exit. Shirt, pants, underwear; they were all quickly removed and strewn across the room.

"You are the Miz and you are awesome!" In awe, Ziggler looked at Mike's impressive cock for a moment before doing to him what Shannon was doing to Shane.

Tom reluctantly broke his liplock with Jeff. "Ten bucks that Miz blows first." He announced

Six heads turned. "Okay, twenty." Tom quickly upped the bet.

"I got twenty on Shane." Matt gasped, really turned on as well.

"So do I." Shane moaned, thrusting deeply into Shannon's gaping mouth.

"You can't bet!" Matt panted, his fist a blur moving up and down his exposed member.

"Fuck...." Shane's voice rose then trailed off.

Tom's eyes widened. "I owe ya twenty." He muttered, then carrying his husband, naked except for his socks, into the bedroom.

"What the hell was that about?" Ziggler asked

"Don't know... don't care... shut up and suck." Miz groaned, thrusting his pelvis in the direction of Dolph's waiting mouth. With a few minor changes, the round of win the shot, call the spot continued.

...

Randy panicked every time he heard footsteps outside their door. Tyler noticed and seemed to enjoy watching him squirm.

"He'll be back soon, don't worry." Tyler laughed inappropriately. "Then you two can have your fun in private."

"Gotta get outta here." Randy though, struggling vainly to break out of the cuffs. He wasn't going anywhere he realized when he felt fresh blood trickle down his chafed wrists. His only hope was a miracle rescue.

That miracle was driving down the freeway, maybe fifteen minutes away. Eric's flight had got it early, that itself was a miracle, and he was driving through Des Moines when he lucked out, seeing Evan pull out of the liquor store parking lot. He tailed the car at what was hopefully a safe distance until nature's ugly head reared itself in the form of a huge traffic jam. This was the only thing currently keeping Randy in one piece. The cars were literally going nowhere.

Word came back that there was actually an overturned tanker truck ahead and they'd be lucky to move within the next several hours. This was real good news and an idea came to Eric quickly when he saw other drivers getting out of their cars and walking ahead, he assumed to see the mess ahead. He soon became just another face in the crowd, walking forward but unlike everyone else, he had no interest in seeing an overturned vehicle unless that vehicle happened to be filled with money. His SEAL training in handy, Eric blended in to the mass and was able to get all the way to Evan's car without being spotted. In his pocket was a GPS tracking dot: accurate to within two feet anywhere in the world. Squatting down behind Evan's bumper, he was able to secure it to the metal while making it appear that he was simply tying his shoes.

Jogging back to his car; everyone else was too busy in their own worlds to notice that he was the only person going in that direction, he activated the receiving unit and watched the stationary blip.

"Looks like I'm gonna be here awhile." Eric turned on the radio and quickly texted back to Tom.

"STUCK IN TRAFFIC."

"F***" Tom texted back.

"GOOD NEWS THO... SO'S EVAN."

"???"

"PLANTED GPS TRACER... HE'LL LEAD ME TO R."

"CAR?"

"Y"

""

"FOLLOW STILL?"

"Y"

"OK TTYL." Eric closed the phone and leaned back in the chair. If it wasn't for the mass of humanity, he would've done something a little more daring and possibly illegal to coax Evan into revealing Randy's location, but for now he was happy to wait, hoping that the his presence meant that for the time being, Orton was safe. It was an assumption that would also prove to be everyone's undoing.


	6. Violets

Violets

"What the hell do you mean you lost them?" Tom bellowed

"Dude..."

"Don't 'dude' me! You're supposed to be an expert at search and recon. Just what the hell am I paying you for?" Tom looked over at the five other men, all snoring, and decided to step out into the hall to continue berating Eric. "If you can't handle this, let me know and I'll find someone who can!"

"It's not my fault they swapped cars." Eric replied, standing in the middle of the empty hotel room that had been rented to Bourne and Tyler. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that they had left recently: torn clothes scattered everywhere, empty beer bottles, wet towels in the bathroom, and so forth. Eric looked out the window at the car he'd tagged only hours ago, still parked exactly where he'd followed Evan to. "Whaddaya want me to do?"

"Stay there." Tom said "In case they return. If they aren't back by seven, meet us at the arena."

"Yes sir."

Tom walked back into the room, disgusted at the latest happening. He stepped over Ziggler, Miz, and Matt on his way to the bedroom.

"Fuck!" He jumped on the bed, waking up Jeff.

"Okay." Jeff rolled on top of him. "But aren't you a little sore after last night? I am."

"I didn't mean that, honey." Tom groaned. "I meant fuck as in 'what the fuck else could go wrong?'"

"Oh." Jeff rolled off, staring at the ceiling. "Ya wanna tell me?"

"Eric lost them. Of all the ex-Navy SEALs on this planet, I pick the one who probably gets confused in a round room." Tom answered

"Shit. Matty's gonna be sad." Jeff answered

"No he's not." Tom stated "'coz we're not gonna tell him."

"We're not? Why?" Jeff demanded

"Because Eric is going to meet us at the arena and we're going to come up with a new battle plan. If Matty asks anything, Eric's gonna do all the talking." Tom stroked his chin, then Jeff's. "And he better have some good answers."

Jeff cuddled up to Tom. "Imma tired still." He waved Bunny in Tom's face as if to demonstrate the importance of that little factoid.

"Okay sweetie." Tom shut off his phone. "Tuck in."

It was a little game they sometimes played when it was a cold night out. They would tuck the blankets into the sides of bed, then squirrel their way into a nice warm cocoon. With the blankets pulled tightly across their bodies, Tom and Jeff soon drifted off to dreamland just as the drunks in the next room were staggering to their feet.

...

It was no surprise that Tom and Jeff were the last of their coterie to arrive at the arena for RAW. It was just too darn snuggly for either of them to want to get out of bed before it was absolutely necessary. They didn't care who saw them, just as long as Tyler and Bourne were nowhere in sight. Their private locker room awaited them.

"Imma gonna find Matty." Jeff announced once he had changed into his gear.

"Cool." Tom had stretched out across one of the benches. "You know where to find me."

"Love you." A quick kiss and Jeff was gone.

Once the door was closed behind him, Tom began stripping out of his street clothes. He'd only gotten as far as his shoes when the familiar sound of a piece of paper being slid under the door distracted him.

"Wonder what I am doing tonight?" He thought aloud, recognizing it for what it was. Hobbling a little, he scanned the sheet. "Fuck." He moaned, "This ain't good."

...

In another part of the arena, Mark was being confronted.

"Listen, either you do what we ask or we tell the whole world about your relationship with that guy we saw you with."

Mark frowned. He'd been trying to keep his relationship with James, his new beau, secret from everyone so that it wouldn't get back to his ex-wife for leverage. Their split was anything but friendly and he knew that she would use anything she could to wrest away what little custody he had of their children. And if Sara found out that a one-night stand many years ago had actually produced a son, then he could just kiss it all goodbye.

"I don't have a problem with these guys... why are you doing this?" Mark wished James was beside him. He'd soon turn the situation around.

"Because we're calling the shots. We want them outta our business immediately."

"Well find someone else." Mark turned to walk away.

"I guess we also have to tell Linda that Mark's been bringing that guy around to the arenas her late-husband banned. I don't think she'll be too happy."

Mark cringed. _How the fuck did they find out? I told James to be discreet about it. _"If I do this, will you stop blackmailing me?"

"I knew you'd see things our way. Now do your promo like a good little Undertaker."

Mark sighed. When had love become so complicated?

...

Jeff had found Matt wandering the halls. Although he had seemed to forget his troubles during their fun of the previous night, it seemed that the moment wrestling came back into his life, so did his blah-ness.

"Jeffro, I swear that if I don't get Randy back soon, I am going to take matters into my own hands." Matt was barely containing his rage, and Jeff could sense this.

"Matty..." He was hesitant about even touching his brother, but the little voice inside Jeff's head kept telling him otherwise.

"Jeff, please. I know you're trying to help, but I really need to figure out a way on my own."

"...you can't do this by yourself. Tommy's waiting for us and Eric is supposed to be here tonight as well. If we can't find him by ourselves, then maybe we should call the cops..."

"No!" Matty shouted "We can't. They said they'd hurt Randy even more if we did!" The thought of Orton hurting was driving Matt to the brink of insanity.

"There you are." Shane had been seeking them out since a demand from Bourne and Tyler had been slammed on his desk earlier. "We need to talk. My office."

Jeff and Matt looked at each other, and realized that they were both thinking the same thing: whatever Shane had to say to them probably wasn't good.

...

"So what am I supposed to do?" Leaning against his motorcycle, Mark was conversing with James over the phone.

"Why the fuck you askin' me?" James responded gruffly.

"Because this concerns you too, Jackass!" Mark retorted "Or does what we have not matter to you?"

"Listen Calaway, it was your fuckin' idea not to tell anyone about us. As I recall, you just stood there while Vince read me the riot act and banned me for life from ever coming around."

"If only McMahon had meant his life instead o' yours."

"You shoulda fuckin' clarified that, shouldn't ya?" James barked "So what are you gonna do 'bout it, lover-boy?"

"If I knew, I sure as fuck wouldn't be asking for your advice!" _Why do all of our conversations end up as either arguments, or rough sex, or arguments leading to rough sex?_

"Mark, let me be the calm one for once. I don't know much about that business, but don't you usually work things out beforehand?"

"Your point, Lawson?"

"Fuck, you're dense. Work something out with him. Maybe you can make it look like you're really hurting the son of a bitch... why am I giving you career advice in the first place? I'm not your fuckin' occupational therapist!"

"Thanks for nothin'."

"I have no clue why you care for some of these people the way you do, but it would make sense to me to at least talk to the guy beforehand. Maybe if you finally trusted someone in that crazy world of yours?" Lawson sounded a lot calmer, which was eerie, even by Mark's standards.

"Maybe." Mark sighed "I'll figure some shit out."

"I'll see you tomorrow and you can give me all the gory details. Connor and Cooper say hi and to stop acting like such a pussy."

"Fuck!" Mark snapped his phone shut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" _This is fuckin' bad no matter what I do._ He went off to look for that night's opponent. Maybe James was right and he could make it look like he was seriously injuring this guy. Then again, James might also shit golden eggs.

...

Shane's news was not much better. Bourne and Tyler had demanded an unsanctioned match between Matt and Jeff for that evening's telecast. It was to be no DQ, but any outside interference from Tom would result in the match being forfeit.

"I'm really nervous about giving in to these guys." Shane said "Legal liabilities aside, I don't want to..."

"We'll do it." Matt interrupted, ignoring the stares he got from Jeff and McMahon.

"We will? Matty are you sure?"

"I don't care about getting Randy back right now. I just wanna make those two suffer." Matt pounded his fist into his palm.

"Just sign this and they're yours. It's a limited liability form. It basically means that..."

"...the company is not responsible for any injuries we suffer during this match." Matt finished, sounding a little bored. "We know the deal."

"Between the three of us, I wouldn't lose any sleep if those two could never wrestle again." Shane stated "But you two are money."

Matt smiled. "Understood." He left the office, a lopsided smile on his face, with Jeff tagging close behind.

"Matty... are you serious?" Jeff asked

"Jeffro, I don't know if I can trust Eric to do the job or not, but I'm not going to sit around and wait for results." Matt responded, squarely looking Jeff in the eyes. "Maybe we can convince Bourne and/or Tyler to tell us where he is."

"How are we gonna do that?" Jeff asked

"Leave the plotting to me, little brother. You just worry about winning our match."

Tom was in the exact same position that Jeff had left him. Lying on his back on a bench, his shoes kicked to one side. He hadn't bothered to change into his Aces' gear; it was hanging on a hook in one of the lockers.

"Show's gonna start, Tommy. Shouldn't you get ready?" Jeff asked

"Why? I'm doing sweet fuck all tonight. No match, no promo, no nothing." Tom crossed his arms over his eyes. "I don't even get a fuckin' shot at these assholes."

Jeff looked over at Matt with confusion evident. "How did you..."

"They slipped the run sheet under the door right after you left." Tom waved it in Jeff's face. "I read it three times and if you can find the name Tom Hardy on there someplace, I'll suck you off in the middle of the ring during tonight's show."

Jeff grabbed the sheet from Tom and read it several times. Tom and Matt heard something that sounded like "Damn!"

"Lemme take a look at that." Matt grabbed the sheet from Jeff and read it as well.

"Why do you care?" Tom was his usual grouchy self.

"I think Matty just wants to watch us get down and dirty in the ring." Jeff giggled

Tom shook his head, and was preparing a smart reply, when several raps on the door interrupted him.

"You expecting someone?" Jeff asked

"Eric, maybe?" Tom rolled off the bench and opened the door. It wasn't Eric, just a member of production.

"Here."

"What is that?" Jeff asked

"Damned if I... oh fuck!" Tom read it.

"What?" Matt asked

Tom slapped the sheet into his brother's hands, then strode to his locker, pulling his vest off in the process.

Matt quickly scanned it, his eyes bugging out of his head.

"What the hell? Are they kidding?"

"I don't think so." Tom flung his shirt into his locker and pulled on his ring shirt.

"Tommy? Matty? What's going on?" Jeff demanded

"Don't worry about it." Tom sat down and pulled up his trouser legs to put on his boots. "It's nothing big brother can't handle."

"If you say so, bro, but Mark?" Matt answered

Jeff turned white. "Why?"

"Same reason you two have a non-sanctioned match with Tyler and Bourne." Tom responded, putting on his leather jacket. "They want us out of the picture and both of them know that if I get into the ring with either Evan or Jack, they will be the one taken out of here on a stretcher. Now how they roped Mark into doing this is beyond me." He flung open his shades by one rim and put them on. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make it seem like Mark and I have a problem."

...

Mark was pacing backstage, waiting for the match in front of him to finish. If he'd been able to get in the ring immediately after finding out about his match, he probably would not have been as nervous as he was. His feelings only skyrocketed when his opponent came into his line of sight.

"Mark! Just the mother fucker I was looking for!" In his ring gear, Tom looked even more imposing.

"Tom, this wasn't my idea..."

"'Taker, you're on."

"We'll deal with this later." Mark stepped through the curtain.

Tom stared at the monitor, his skin starting to crawl. The equation of Mark plus hell-in-a-cell equals a lot of pain.

"Hardy?"

Tom turned. "Unless you're here to tell me that my match with Calaway is off, then I'm a little busy at the moment."

"There's some guy who says he's here to see you. Says his name's Eric."

Tom looked in the direction of the thumb. Eric was leaning against a wall, trying to look like he belonged.

"Take him to Matt and Jeff and tell him I'll be right there." Tom turned his focus back to the screen. He had to give Mark credit, he was trying to make it believable.

"...there's been a group o' guys running roughshod over the WWE in the past few weeks, claiming that there's no one who can stop them. Well, I may be on the Smackdown brand, but this is still my yard."

The fans cheered.

"Tonight, I take back my yard and I'm starting with the man who calls himself 'The future' of World Wrestling Entertainment. Hardy, get your Ace out here!"

Tom took one last look behind him, just in time to see Eric go into their locker room. His expression was totally unreadable.

Tom walked out, no pyro, no entrance music, just one very pissed-off Ace.

"I see that Teddy Long still can't control you and don't give me any of that 'death is uncontrollable' crap." Tom looked disgusted. "I don't know who sent you but it ain't gonna happen. I have no problem with you..."

"Well, I have one with you." _Damn James and his huge cock!_

"Someone put you up to this, didn't they?" When Mark didn't answer, Tom chuckled. "And I thought you were the big dog... I guess the big dog gets dragged around by his Johnson like everyone else in this damn company."

Mark stared at his shoes. If they only knew...

"Since you seem to have a problem with me, I guess we better settle this. And since apparently I have nothing better to do tonight, why don't I send the Big Dog to the pound." Tom lowered his glasses to half-mast and looked Mark up and down.

"My yard... my match." Mark shouted "Hell in a cell."

Tom tried to look shocked, but inwardly he was laughing. "Is that supposed to make me scared? Whooooo." Tom waved his fingers at Mark.

Just as Mark was about to respond, Shane McMahon showed up.

"When did I lose control of Raw?" He shook his head. "I am putting a stop to this right now. I'm already allowing an unsanctioned match later tonight between The Hardy Boyz and Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler, but I am not going to risk any more careers. If you wanna fight, take it to Smackdown! Let Teddy Long deal with this crap, 'coz I ain't gonna."

"I will see you there... bring your little cell, and bring your dead ass, because I am the future of the WWE and it's time for the Future to bury the past." Tom flicked his glasses back up and turned toward the curtain.

Mark rolled his eyes. "You may be the Future, but you will rest... in... peace!"

The fans cheered and while Mark did his thing in the ring, Tom walked backstage. Once he'd cleared the gorilla position, he ran back to the Aces' locker room.

"How about some fuckin' good news?" He slammed the door behind him.

Matt, Jeff, and Eric all looked up.

"Anyone?" Silence was not what Tom wanted. Not one to suffer from nerves, but he felt as if he'd just written his own death warrant. "Come on, people. Something?"

Eric looked up. "The only thing I can suggest right now is that you two drag this match out as long as you can. Tom and I will search this arena top to bottom. IF Randy is here someplace, we will find him."

Tom nodded.

"How can you be sure?" Matt asked "How can you people be so fuckin' sure?" He looked like he was going to cry.

"Matty, shhh..." Jeff pulled him into his arms.

"Matt is right, though. Nothing is certain right now. The only thing I can be certain of is my promise that the hurt will go away, one way or another." Eric looked like he wanted to console Matt himself.

"Matt and Jeff... five minutes."

"Good luck." Tom hugged both of them.

"You too." Matt whispered, suppressing a sniffle. "Find Randy, please." He whispered

Tom and Eric stared at each other once the Hardys had left.

"What the hell was that about?" Tom demanded

"What?"

"Don't feign innocent with me. I saw the way you were looking at Matt." Tom leaned against a locker and stared at him. "Should I be keeping an eye on you as well?"

Eric turned away and stared at the wall. "Tom, you wouldn't understand if I told you."

"Try me." Tom folded his arms.

"McMahon hired me to break up Matt and Randy. He bought me the house, everything."

Tom ruffled his hair wildly. "Vince is dead." He stated

"I ain't stupid. " Eric retorted "I made a mistake, okay. But it's not like I did anything."

"Only because Vince didn't give you the chance." Tom barked "Obviously he didn't trust you to get the job done, or that sex-crazed megalomaniac wouldn't have gone after my brother himself, and then who knows where we'd be right now."

Eric hung his head. "It's not my fault. He just started throwin' money at me."

"That I can believe." Tom answered "But you are on our side on this, right? I mean, I don't want you saying one thing, then just goin' through the motions just so you can get into my bro's pants."

"Trust me."

_Famous last words._

...

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is unsanctioned by World Wrestling Entertainment. Currently in the ring, at a total combined weight of four hundred fourteen pounds, the team of Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler!"

Dressed in their streetwear, Evan and Jack looked ready to battle.

"Their opponents, representing the Four Aces, at a combined weight of four hundred fifty-two pounds, Matt and Jeff: the Hardys!"

"It looks like the Hardys came to fight." Michael Cole noted the chairs carried by both members of Team Xtreme.

"Wouldn't you? Bourne and Tyler may have bit off more than they wanted to with this one." Jerry Lawler answered "And with the only stipulation being the banning of Tom from ringside, this could very well turn into, pardon the expression, a slobber-knocker."

"We're gonna win this one Matty, don't worry." Jeff whispered in his brother's ear. "I promise ya."

Backstage, Tom and Eric were waiting for the match to begin when Matt's cell phone rang.

"Should I answer that?" Tom asked

"I would. Maybe it's Randy." Eric responded

Tom dug through the bag, hoping to find it before the ringing stopped. "Where the fuck is it?" He growled, delving through the contents and hoped Matt wouldn't have a problem with this. He finally found it, tucked under a pair of Hello Kitty underwear.

"Hello?" He yelled "Hello!"

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was very weak, but it was unmistakable. It was Orton. "Matty, is that you?"

"No, it's Tom?"

"Tommy? Help me, please."

"Randy, where are you? Are you at the arena?" Tom beckoned for Eric to come over. He put the phone between their ears so they could both hear the conversation.

"No. They hot-wired a car and just drove me somewhere. Then they locked me in the trunk. Please, help me!"

"Keep him talking." Eric whispered, reaching inside his jacket hanging on a chair. Tom looked at him, questioningly, but nodded when he saw what Eric was pulling out of one of the inside pockets: a mini tape recorder.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" Tom repeated

"No!" Randy shouted hoarsely. "Get me outta here."

Eric held out his hand for the phone.

"Randy, I'm gonna let you talk to a friend of mine." Tom handed the phone over.

"Hey, Randy... it's Eric Stryker." He pressed the record button when he started speaking.

"Hi." Randy replied

"We're gonna get you out of this. Do you know what kind of car they stole?"

"A red one?" Randy answered

"Make and model?"

"I think it was a Honda." Randy stated

"You think?" Eric replied

"It had an 'H' on the trunk."

"No idea as to the model?"

"No!"

"Okay, kid, just calm down!" Eric said "Do you remember anything about your surroundings before they locked you into the trunk?"

"Not a lot... they blindfolded me."

"Okay... stop talking for a second and listen... do you hear anything around you... anything that might help us find you.?"

Randy listened... the only sounds he heard were birds chirping, some engine noise, nothing that would be considered out of the ordinary.

"No... just nature, cars... wait! I hear something!"

"What?" Eric asked

"It's..." Randy's voice was drowned out by a burst of static, then the line went dead.

"Eric? Eric!" Randy shouted. There was no answer. He looked at the phone, then burst into tears. BATTERY DEAD appeared briefly on the screen, before it went blank. "No!" He curled up into a ball, sobbing for this nightmare to be over.

"Dammit!" Eric closed Matt's phone.

"Did you get anything?" Tom stopped pacing to ask.

"I dunno. Randy was just about to tell me something, then the line went dead." Eric rewound the tape and replayed the last few seconds of the conversation. "..something. It's..." then the connection cut.

"Replay that last sound again." Tom asked

"Sounded like static to me." Eric replied "But here you go."

Tom replayed the noise several times, his head to the side to listen more closely.

"Well?" Eric asked

"That's not static, man. That's an airplane." Tom answered, replaying it one last time.

Eric nodded his agreement. "The airport is only five minutes away."

"Let's go." Tom grabbed his jacket, Eric also grabbed his.

...

In the ring, the unsanctioned match was well under way. Unsanctioned was basically a quick way of saying there were no rules, no referee, and no limitation to what damage could be done. Matt had faced off against Evan, Jeff against his former boyfriend, and both were battling back and forth. Jeff occasionally glanced at Matt to make sure that he was doing alright and not letting his anger toward the two goad him into making a stupid, and potentially career-ending, mistake.

Jeff whipped Jack into the corner and ran in after him, crushing him with a clothesline at full speed. Jeff's own momentum carried him over the top rope, but he quickly climbed up the turnbuckles and landed on Jack with a flying leg drop. Matt, meanwhile was trying something much simpler. He was choking Evan into unconsciousness with the handle of a broom he'd found under the ring.

"When they said unsanctioned, they meant it!" Jerry Lawler shouted from the commentators' table.

"Classic Aces maneuvers." Cole responded

The match had been going in the Hardys' favor since the opening bell, and looked to be continuing in that form until the arena suddenly went dark.

Jeff was punching Jack in the face and had no intention of stopping. When the lights came back on, he was suddenly facing a handicap situation when he realized that Tyler was not his only opponent in the ring. The lights going out had served their purpose. In the darkness, Evan had been able to gain the upper hand on Matt by kicking him in the balls, then spearing him into the ring steps with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Jeff turned around, and was kicked right in the gut, knocking the wind out of him as well. Evan pulled hm to his feet and tucked his head between his own legs, while signaling for Jack to climb the ropes.

"Spike!" Jeff heard Evan shout and braced himself for a bad landing.

Jack jumped, and they spike piledrove Jeff... right onto a steel chair.

"Oh that wasn't too bad." Jeff thought, once the ringing in his head died down. Then he tried to move his arms and legs and couldn't.

"Matty!" he screamed "Imma can't feel anythin'."

Jack and Evan stood over him, lazily kicking his body, laughing at the way it moved around until Matt jumped back into the ring, a chair in his hands, and started swinging it crazily at both of them.

Laughing all the way up the ramp, they watched Matt crawl over to his brother.

"Jeffro. I'm here." Matt whispered.

"Matty." Jeff looked at his brother, fear in his eyes. "I can't feel my arms and legs."

Matt looked around at the crowd, most of them silent but some were cheering. He screamed. "Somebody help me, please!"

TBC

_Evan and Jack are up two, while the Aces are down two (members)... with Tom running around with Eric, how will Matt be able to cope? You will be surprised!_


	7. Seaweed

Seaweed

"Can you feel me poke you?"

Jeff scrunched his face, anticipating a stab. "Hurry up. Imma wanna go!"

Matt looked at the doctor. "Jeff, I've poked you seven times since I asked the question. Are you sure that you didn't feel any of them?"

Jeff raised his head, staring at both his brother and the surgeon. "N-n-no." His lower lip trembled and he bit on his lip ring, fighting back tears.

"Shhhh, Jeffro. It's probably just a stinger." Matt took Jeff's hand and squeezed it.

"Where's Tommy?" Jeff asked, giving up the battle against crying.

"I dunno, bro." Matt sighed "Our locker room was empty when I got back. He and Eric must've gone somewhere. I can call him."

"Please? I don't wanna be by myself."

"You're not."

"Tommy!" Jeff squealed, trying to hold his arms up for a hug. "Damn!" He shouted when he realized he couldn't feel his arms.

"What the fuck happened?" Tom demanded

"Those assholes gave Jeff a spike piledriver onto a chair." Matt flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles loudly.

"And what the hell were you doing while this was going on?" Tom demanded

"Me? I was unconscious beside the ring." Matt pointed to a nice bruise on his forehead.

"That's not my fuckin' problem. I just spent the last six hours trying to find a specific red Honda amongst ten thousand cars in an airport parking garage while trying not to be seen by Bourne and Tyler. Eric is still there, Lord knows why. They're probably halfway across the state by now." Tom answered

"Please don't fight." Jeff replied

"We're not fighting. We're having a discussion." Tom answered

"Sounded like a fight to me." Jeff sulked

"Jeffro, relax." Tom brushed some of the loose hair aside and kissed Jeff on the forehead. "We're all under a lot of stress right now."

"At least you can feel your hands." Jeff replied "How am I gonna jerk off?"

Matt looked at Tom, who smiled. "I'm sure we'll find a way. I hear Shane really enjoyed the other night." He replied

Jeff slapped Matt. It wasn't much of a slap, but it surprised both of them. Matt for being slapped and Jeff for actually being able to slap him.

"Jeffro...?" Matt blinked twice.

Jeff raised his hand in front of his face and stared at it, slowly spreading his fingers.

"It seems the paralysis was temporary. Like I said it might be."

"I guess that's medi-speak for I told you so." Tom smiled

"The x-rays, doc."

"Thank-you nurse." The doctor put Jeff's films up and stared at them.

"That's what the inside of an enigma looks like?" Tom looked over. "Looks pretty much human to me."

"Pretty much... hmmm." The doctor frowned.

"Hmmm?" Tom asked

"You know anything about anatomy?" The doctor asked

"Only so far as to the correct number of arms, legs, and heads I'm supposed to have... two of each." Tom replied

"Well, I have good news and bad news." The doctor pointed to several opaque spots on the film. "The good news is that the paralysis was indeed temporary. The bad news is this."

"The stinger?"

"It's a little more severe than that. He has two herniated disks in his neck."

"So?" Tom asked

"So? Given Jeff's current state, his occupation, his history of drug abuse, and several other factors, I am telling you that he should seriously consider not wrestling ever again."

"What?" Tom, Matt, and Jeff said at the same time.

"Matty, what does he mean I should consider never wrestling again?" Jeff asked "I can move my arms and legs, see?"

"Mr. Hardy, I am just giving you the facts."

"I'm telling you I'm fine. Matty, Tommy, tell him." Jeff wailed

"Jeff! Listen to the doctor." Tom barked

Jeff shrunk back, against Matt, and away from Tom's voice.

"Matty. Tommy yelled at me. Imma don't like that." Jeff whimpered

"I'm sure Tommy didn't mean it... did you?" Matt glared at his brother, while rubbing Jeff's shoulder softly.

"Of course I didn't." Tom stated "Jeff, you just need to listen to the doctor before you start acting up."

"Mr. Hardy. You have two herniated disks in your neck... C3 and C4. This paralysis was temporary and while I see you have regained feeling in your extremities, I am telling you that one more fall, one more bad bump, even one slight error in a landing and you'll be a quadriplegic. If you have any other career options, I would consider that you start looking into them."

"Matty, he's scaring me. I want my Bunny!" Jeff his his face in the folds of Matt's shirt. Matt gently stroked his hair, whispering soft words to him.

"What does that make it... three to nothing for them?" Tom sighed

"Something like that." Matt responded

"We got one shot at evening this mess up." Tom stared into his brother's emerald eyes. "I'll see you both at the show tomorrow."

"Tommy, where're you goin'?" Jeff screeched.

"I have to meet Eric." Tom answered "I expect to see the two of you at the match. Understood?"

Jeff nodded. Matt looked at Tom, with a feeling that his older brother wasn't being truthful.

...

"Pull down this path." Evan shouted

"Here?" Jack asked "It's two a.m. and we're in the middle of nowhere..."

"I am quite aware of the time and the place. Now just do it and then take a walk."

Jack understood. Evan had been really antsy about something since his return to their last hotel room. They'd changed cars three times since then, and were now driving a black Subaru Forester, also stolen.

"That guy we saw at the airport... same guy I saw at the traffic tie up." Evan stated

"You sure?" Jack had been paying more attention to Randy than Evan, obviously.

"Positive. Looks like the Hardys are smarter than we gave them credit for."

"It could be a coincidence."

"Could be." Evan answered "But I don't believe in coincidences... park here."

"How long?" Jack asked, turning off the engine.

"Twenty minutes. Do what I tell ya and I may save a little piece of our prisoner for you."

Jack understood. They'd been too anxious to split, so Evan hadn't made good on his plans for Orton, who was in the backseat, shackled and gagged.

"You're the boss." Tyler laughed, trotting down the path back toward the highway.

"That I am." Evan climbed into the backseat and stared at Randy. "So young, so good-looking... too bad you hooked up with the wrong family." He grabbed Randy's legs and with a yank, he was flat on his back across the seat.

Randy's eyes opened wide. He wanted to scream, but the electrical tape across his mouth stifled any sound.

"Just be glad I waited this long to have you."

A solitary tear trickled down Randy's cheek.

...

Matt and Jeff, both in shock over Jeff's career being put on hold, tried to enjoy a sit-down dinner for once, but Jeff refused to sit still. He paced their hotel room back and forth, the pizza they'd ordered forgotten on the table.

"I'll show them." Jeff pouted "If I wanna wrestle, then Imma gonna wrestle and there's nothing anyone can say 'bout it."

"Jeffro, can you please just calm down for a moment." The constant movement was driving Matt batty. "He didn't say you wouldn't, he just said you shouldn't."

"Whatever, man." Jeff retorted "This ain't about me anyway. This is about you gettin' Randy back and I don't care if I do end up paralyzed, or crippled, or what the fuck ever, Imma not lettin' you down."

Matt was touched by Jeff's words, even if they were a little over the top.

"You've never let me down." Matt smiled brightly. "Though there are other people involved in this. You've got a husband who loves you very much..."

"I know..." Jeff interrupted

"Let me finish." Matt held up a hand to cut Jeff off. "But do you think it's fair to ask him to throw down everything in his career that he's worked damn hard for because he has to take care of you twenty-four seven if something goes wrong... I don't."

"Matty, I can take care of myself. You don't hafta worry no more."

"Don't hafta worry no more? Jeff, my boyfriend is missing, you're putting your life into your hands, and Tom has a hell in a cell match with Mark tomorrow night!" Matt shouted "What do you mean I don't hafta worry?... Fuckin' A I do!"

Jeff jumped back, a little stung by Matt's words. "Matty, please..." His lower lip started to quiver.

Matt exhaled softly. He was used to having to put things into perspective, but making Jeff cry made him feel about six inches tall.

"Jeff, just promise me you'll take it easy for a while. At least until this thing blows off!" Matt begged. "I don't think I can take any more drama in my life."

"Okay, big brother, I promise." Jeff said

"Thank-you." Matt rose and embraced him. "Now eat your pizza before it gets cold."

...

Tom lit a cigarette, having to cup his lighter against the brisk fall wind. Why Eric didn't pick some place a little warmer to have this chat was a question Tom would like to have an answer to and the sooner the better. His fingers were starting to numb with the cold.

"Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, I made it, but why am I freezing my ass off doing it?" Tom demanded

"Follow me." Eric led Tom toward a door at the back of the alley. Looking confused, and a little hesitant, he followed.

"Where are we going? I hope it's someplace warm." Tom shivered, scrunching himself inside his jacket.

"Trust me." Eric opened the door and a friendly warmth flooded the alley.

_What the hell am I getting myself into this week?_

"It's okay... I live here when I'm trying to stay incognito." Eric explained

"Whatever." If it would warm him up, Tom would gladly follow him to hell. Sparsely furnished, but it was a lot warmer than the outside.

"Grab a seat. I'll be right back."

Tom plopped on the couch, stretching his legs out to warm them up. Eric soon reappeared with a large folder and two bottles of beer.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been as forthcoming with information, but most of what I need to tell you, I'd rather not do it in front of your brother." Eric dropped the folder onto the table and stuck a video tape into an ancient-looking video cassette recorder.

"It's that bad?" Tom asked

"The really bad part is that I think they're on to me, so I have to keep an even lower profile right now." Eric leaned back, capping his beer. Tom also opened his, but didn't drink right away.

"Do I need to get someone else to finish the job?"

"Not yet. I'll let you know if we're compromised to that point, but if I stay away until after your match tomorrow night, we should be okay." Eric replied

"How did you know about that?" Tom asked

"I have about sixty hours of recorded conversations." Eric answered "I would have a lot more, but it's been a real chore keepin' up with their ever-changing cars. It's a good fuckin' thing you've haven't been on any big tours lately."

"Europe's coming up soon." Tom finally took a sip of his beer.

"I know." Eric said "But right now, we need to focus on tomorrow and your match."

"Why?"

"Watch." Eric started the tape. Tom watched as two big men came onto the screen. One was Mark, the other one he didn't recognize.

"James Lawson." Eric answered Tom's unspoken question. "He and Mark have been breathing heavily with each other since they were kids, but it's finally serious. Bourne and Tyler are using this to blackmail Mark into doing their bidding..."

"Which is what... take me out?" Tom interrupted yet again.

"Pretty much. You know about the divorce, right?"

"Who doesn't?" Tom asked. Mark was a very private person when it came to his personal life, but he'd confided in Glenn, and that was like telling the entire locker room.

"Well, apparently it's not going so well, custody-wise, and Mark's afraid that if this gets out, any chance of seein' his kids will go up in smoke." Eric fast-forwarded the tape, then stopped it.

"Next... I tracked them as far as Springfield, then I was spotted." Tom was handed several photos of Evan, Jack, and Randy going in and out of several hotels, restaurants, and so on. "Thankfully, I was able to continue the surveillance from a distance. Unfortunately, it's audio only, but you'll get the point."

... hooked up with wrong family.... just be glad I waited this long to have you." Tom heard something that sounded like muffled screams, followed by the sound of a zipper being opened.

"Turn it off." Tom barked

Eric nodded. "Sorry, man, but I had to."

"This is all fine and good, but where are they now?"

"On their way to the arena. I guess Bourne figured that it would be a lot less suspicious if they drove to the event." Eric shrugged

"Are you sure they are going to be at the show?" Tom asked

"Positive. I taped Bourne and Tyler talking about it. They wanna make sure that Mark does what they tell him to." Eric stated "Which is also going to be their downfall... you have to get to Mark before the match and maybe suggest to him that he have Bourne and Tyler at ringside while I do some snooping backstage."

Tom nodded. Hell in a cell was a perfect cover for that. He made a note to have some handcuffs handy in case they got a little too close. "Anything else I need to worry about?"

"Surviving the match. Mark has more to lose than you do and he's that desperate right now." Eric replied

Tom nodded.

"And don't come looking for me tomorrow. If anything changes, I will find you." Eric added

"You got it." Tom rose, buttoning his jacket tightly to go back into the night air. "I won't see ya later."

...

After many long hours with James, Mark had come to one inescapable conclusion... he had to go through with it. There was no way around it. James' idea was to refuse to do it, but that was easy for him to say. The mother of his children was dead and no one in their right mind would want to look after his two boys. Although mature enough to be on their own, they acted like petulant children half the time and psychotic inmates the other half.

He pulled up to the arena for that night's match about six hours early and watched the production crew begin to assemble the hell in a cell cage. Laying claim to one of the biggest locker rooms, he got out his gear and waited for the inevitable to occur. Eventually, his mind wandered and he lay down on a bench for a quick nap.

...

Tom was only suffering from a mild case of frostbite when he returned to the hotel.

"God, if this is November, then I am going to move to Florida." He groaned, blowing on his hands for warmth. Maybe if he could wrap them around a nice warm Enigma...? Nope. Jeff and Matt were both asleep in one of the beds.

Tom frowned. Not because of Jeff and Matt being all cozy, but because Matt had his precious Lizard in his grasp! That was unforgivable!

"Oh well... Matty needs some lovin' too I guess." Tom kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the other bed. A little bit of sleep was in order before his match, but his overtaxed brain wouldn't shut off enough to let him do it.

"Well, this is pointless." After an hour, Tom gave up. He scribbled a quick note, then redressed and drove to the arena. If he could get Mark alone, maybe they could find a way to turn the tables on Evan and Jack before either of them got hurt real bad.

"You're here early." Leave it to Shane Helms to state the obvious.

"So are you." Tom retorted "My show isn't for four hours, so you're even earlier than I am."

"Production meeting for ECW." Helms replied

"Oh." Tom answered "How's the headaches?"

"Not bad." Shane answered

"You getting back into the ring any time soon?" Tom asked, not breaking kayfabe in case some one was listening who shouldn't.

"Maybe." Shane winked

"Cool... I can't wait to see it... they should work you with that Hurricane guy I've seen. You'd make a good team."

"I'll suggest that." Shane chuckled

"If there's anything left of me after tonight, maybe you'd be interested in joining the three of us for a meal."

"Sure... Mark's already here. He doesn't look like he wants this match any more than you do."

"His idea." Tom shrugged "Maybe he's afraid that I'll go insane on his ass and the Big Dog will need to be put down." Tom didn't know what Matt had told Shane, if anything, about their current situation, so he just continued to keep up storyline appearances.

"Whatever, just be careful out there. ' Don't wanna see any more Hardys taken out of here like last time."

"I'll drink to that. Laterz." It wasn't hard to find Mark's dressing room. The Deadman had a knack for grabbing the biggest changing room and, unless he was tagging with Glenn, then nobody was dumb enough to try to suggest that he find a smaller room.

Tom did not fear the Undertaker, or Mark Calaway for that matter. If you could get past the surface, Mark could be a generally nice guy, just don't wake him up from his nap. A cranky Marky is not something pleasant to deal with, but that is exactly what happened when Tom boldly banged on the door.

No answer, so Tom banged louder. This time he heard what sounded like a piece of furniture hit the floor, followed by several choice swear words. The door was thrown back and Tom was face-to-face with the previously avoidable cranky Undertaker.

"What the fuck do you want, asshole?" Mark yelled "I was tryin' to take a fuckin' nap before I beat the everloving piss out of your sorry ass!"

"Don't they teach anatomy where you're from. Last time I checked, I don't piss outta me ass."

Tom and Mark stared at each other heatedly. "Well?" Mark finally broke the staredown.

"Well, what?" Tom asked

"You gonna answer my question?"

"There was a question in that tirade... what was it?"

"What the fuck do you want, asshole?" Mark repeated himself.

"Oh, that question. I thought since we had some time, we could go over our match tonight." Tom leaned against the door frame, wondering if Mark was going to let him in, or they were going to spend the next four-plus hours yelling at each other. Either way, it didn't matter to Tom.

"Whatever." Mark replied. "We got time. Come back in an hour or two."

"An hour or two? You know how bad I am at remembering spots, right?" Tom scanned the hallway. If either Tyler or Bourne happened by, Tom might as well slit his throat right there.

"Right now, our match is bottom on my list of priorities." Mark pushed Tom back a few steps and tried to close his door.

"I know." Tom sighed, inserting his body between the door and the jam.

"You know what?" Mark stopped trying to shut Tom out, even though the eldest Hardy's position made it impossible to begin with.

"I know more than you think." With a thrust of his elbow, Tom barreled into Mark's locker room. "Now shut that damn door so we can talk!"

To Tom's surprise, Mark obeyed.

"Mark, we are not friends, nor will we ever be, but I will not stand idle while someone is forced into something against their will..."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Mark shouted

"I know about you, and that guy you're fucking..."

"You know about James?"

"I know enough. He's a little creepy and I'll be damned if I ever send him a Christmas card, but it seems that you're willing to bow to Bourne and Tyler." Tom expected one of two things... either Mark was going to say nothing or throw him into a wall. He did not expect Mark to collapse into a chair with his head in his hands.

"Fuckers are threatening to tell Sara about James." Mark finally admitted. "If she finds out I've been sleepin' around with anyone, especially a fuckin' dude, then any chance of ever seein' my kids again is shot to shit."

"So your agreement is what exactly?" Tom queried

"I'm s'posed to injure ya. Badly." Mark looked totally helpless.

"Badly, huh?" _Like there's ever a good way to injure someone. _While running his fingers through his rapidly graying hair, Tom did some serious thinking. When Mark felt threatened, shit happened.

"What's to stop them from telling Sara anyway even if you do manage to hurt me?" Tom asked "Don't say you're taking their word for it..."

The look Mark gave him led Tom to believe that was exactly what was going on.

"You know that if you hurt me even a little bit, Matt and Jeff will be on you so hard you'll be lucky if you escape with your balls intact." Tom retorted

"After what they did last week? Bourne told me that Jeff would never step foot in an arena again."

"Lyin' sack of shit." Tom spat on the floor. "Jeff won't wrestle for a while, but he's here and so it Matt. They still like you, but that ain't gonna stop them from protecting me, and given Matt's emotions right now..."

Mark nodded, not needed the sentence to be concluded. He'd seen Matt's rage in the past. "I'm thinkin' you got a way outta this or you wouldn't be standin' here."

"Maybe I do, or maybe I'm just here to tell you that I'm gonna tear your head up and shove up so far up yer ass, you'll see shit from now on!"

"You gonna leave me hangin' just like that?" Mark demanded

"I'll see you in the ring. Just do what you have to do."

Leaving a slack-jawed Undertaker in his wake, Tom returned to his locker room. Matt and Jeff were already there waiting.

"Got my message, I see."

"Yeah. I don't mind telling you, I'm a little scared, bro."

"Me too." Jeff agreed "I got a plan, though."

"You do?" Tom asked

"Yeah. Matty, you go tell Marky not to hurt Tommy or else!" Jeff replied

"Or else what?"

"Or else... I haven't come up with that part yet." Jeff answered

"Nice try, little brother, but I don't think Mark's gonna fall for an 'or else' unless we have an 'or else' to give him." Matt patted Jeff's head.

"Better 'n anythin' you two have come up with lately." Jeff sulked

"I have everything under control, don't you worry your pretty little head. " Tom raised Jeff's chin and kissed his forehead. "I'm going to have a little nap. Wake me up at the five minute warning."

"Five minute warning! You still hafta change and do your hair and warm-up!" Jeff protested

"You sure that's enough time?" Matt asked, agreeing with one of the few times Jeff had a point.

"Yeah it is. Tonight, I am not going out there to kick the Undertaker's ass as a member of the Four Aces. This is so far beyond storylines right now. I am going out there to kick the Undertaker's ass... as your brother."

Tom curled up on the floor, his breathing slow and even as he dipped into sleep.

"What the hell did he mean by that?" Jeff whispered

"I dunno." Matt shook his head, resigning himself to another bout of drama involving his brothers. "I've given up trying to figure out what goes through Tom's mind sometimes. It just ends up giving me a headache."

Across the arena, Mark was being confronted by Evan.

"Remember our agreement!" After being stripped naked on an episode of Tom Hardy-controlled ECW, Evan cherished having Mark at his beck and call.

"How can I forget? You remind me every ten minutes!" Mark growled

"Just making sure you know your role." Evan retorted

_I'm dealing with a Rocky-wannabe... great! If only James hadn't been so stupid to get himself barred from the arenas, I wouldn't hafta deal with this motherfucker! _

"I know what I have to do... don't worry!"

"We're not worried." Evan responded "Just a little concerned that..."

"If you're so Goddamned concerned, why aren't you and your crony doing this?" Mark bellowed, dangerously close to his breaking point.

"We pay the money, you carry the luggage. Don't fret your dead ass thought, Jack and I will be at ringside to make sure you do exactly what you're told." Evan said "See you there."

Mark punched the wall in frustration as soon as Evan was out of sight. _This is bad. This is real fuckin' bad._

...

"Five minutes."

Tom's eyes opened as soon as he heard the words through the door. He tucked in his polo shirt and zipped up his vest. "That's my cue."

"Tommy, please don't do this!" Jeff begged "Marky'll hurt ya or worse!"

"Honey, please don't worry." Tom cradled Jeff's chin with his thumb and index finger. "I'll take care of it. Now promise me you'll stay here with Matt, okay."

"Imma come with you, please?" Jeff pleaded, like Tom was his mother leaving him on the first day of Kindergarten.

"It's hell in a cell. I can do whatever's necessary if Mark gets outta line." _And Mark's gonna do everything he can to hurt me. _"Just behave for Matty and I'll be back soon. I promised Hurricane we'd all go out after the match for dinner, so I have to be in one piece."

One quick kiss on the lips and Tom was out the door. His plan was to linger by catering until Mark was in the ring, then attack.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the main event. This contest is a hell in a cell match scheduled for one fall. Introducing first..."

TBC


	8. Daisies

Daisies

The next words out of Tony Chimel's mouth made Tom's blood run cold and his eyes bug out.

"...the special guest referee... Evan Bourne!"

Looking totally ridiculous in a striped referee's shirt and his wrestling trunks, Evan ran down to the ring.

"And the special guest enforcer... Jack Tyler!"

It was appropriate that Tom was up against the Undertaker, because he felt like he was facing a firing squad with Evan and Jack being added to the match.

"Introducing first, from Death Valley, weighing two hundred ninety-seven pounds, the Undertaker!"

The lights dimmed as Mark walked down the aisle.

Backstage, the nervousness that Tom had hidden for the past twenty-four plus hours was finally coming to the surface. _This is bullshit._

"You need backup? I can go grab Matt and Jeff."

"I'm not worried." Tom hated lying, especially to Helms.

"The fuck you're not. I can see right through you. Then let me come down with you."

"Things are screwed up enough without you getting involved." Tom ran his hands through his hair, messing it nicely. "Go watch the match with Matt and my husband and keep them company. Don't worry about it... I got everything under control."

"Liar." Shane stated, but did go back to keep the Hardys company.

In the ring, Mark was going through his pre-match ritual of removing his jacket, staring at Evan and Jack the entire time. Both men seemed to be extremely confident about the outcome of this contest.

"And his opponent..."

"Eric, this better be worth it." Tom bounced from foot to foot while he waited to be introduced.

"...representing the Four Aces, from Los Angeles California, weighing two hundred fourty-one pounds... Tom Baker!"

In his street wear, Tom appeared a little less imposing that when he wore the black leather of the Aces, but a look of determination was still etched on his face. Jimmy-legging it up the steps, he ignored Evan and Jack and strode up to Mark the second he was in the ring.

"This your fuckin' idea?" He yelled, pointing at the smirking Evan and Jack.

"I had nothin' to do with that shit." Mark replied, raising his arms in a "what-you-gonna-do-about-it" pose.

The bell rang to get things started. Tom took off his sunglasses, but that was it.

"You're goin' down, Deadman!"

"Whatever." Mark sounded really bored with the entire mess he was stuck in the middle of. Maybe if he could get the match over with quickly, he could rid himself of everyone. He easily blocked Tom's first punch and spun him around with a right hand of his own.

"That's the way you're gonna play, is it?" Tom bounced off the ropes, clotheslining Mark, who didn't even move; instead, he glared at Tom who did it again and got the same lack of response from Mark. Either the Deadman wasn't feeling anything from his strikes, or he'd decided not to sell for Tom this match.

The third time, Tom went for a clothesline, Mark countered it by ducking underneath and, when Tom turned around, locked him in the goozle.

"I would suggest you stay down if you know what's good for you." Mark whispered, before slamming Hardy to the mat. He attempted to pin Tom, but Evan refused to count the fall.

"You ain't getting out of it that easily. I told you to hurt him." Evan whispered in Mark's ear.

Tom heard this exchange. _I guess it's time to fight back before I become another statistic._ Mark pulled Tom to his feet, mouthing the words "I'm sorry" before inverting Tom and tombstone piledriving him into the canvas. Again he covered the almost unconscious Hardy and again Evan refused to make a count.

"What the fuck more do you want?" Mark shouted at Evan, who shrugged like he was just a regular referee. "You really want me to do this... fine!" He whipped Tom into the corner, followed him in, and avalanched him.

"You happy now?" Mark shouted, tossing Tom outside the ring, where Tyler was waiting. Totally unnecessary, but Tyler insisted on kicking Tom in the ribs while Evan chose to continue his discussion with Mark inside the ring, a fact pointed out by the announcing team. To add insult to injury, Tyler rolled him back inside the ring where Evan decided to start calling the shots.

"Tombstone him again!" He told Mark.

"But..." Tom was clearly in no condition to continue the match, but Mark was sure that Evan would've refused to make the count had he tried to cover him again.

"I said do it!" Evan poked Mark in the chest.

"I have just about had enough of this! You wanna tell my wife, go right the fuck ahead!"

Evan's eyes bugged out when Mark wrapped his hand around his throat and squeezed. Evan soon was on his back on the mat and there was nothing staged about that move. Mark put every ounce of his considerable strength into the move and Evan was unconscious in the middle of the ring.

Glaring at Tyler, Mark stepped over the top rope and began to stalk the match's "enforcer". Tyler continued to back up, pleading for Mark not to hurt him, until he backed into something solid. He turned, and there was Tom, grinning like a madman.

"You bet the wrong horse." Tom punched Tyler, who staggered back... right into Mark's waiting arms. Another choke slam and Tyler was likewise out cold on the mats outside the ring.

"Thanks, Mark." Tom whispered

"How long do you need to find Orton?" Mark whispered

"Twenty minutes?" Tom replied

"Fine." Mark grabbed a microphone. "Now that that bullcrap is finished, I'm gonna finish you the right way. Get me a real referee!"

Scott Armstrong ran down to ringside, accompanied by several backstage crew. While they tended to Evan and Jack, the match was restarted.

Despite being on the receiving end of both the chokeslam and the tombstone, Tom was still in pretty good shape for the restart. Tom flung his vest aside, the zipper already busted, and ripped open his button-down shirt.

Mark rolled his eyes, tuning out the squeals from the fans. Yes, Tom was openly gay, but the ladies still seemed to get wet whenever he showed off his chiseled torso.

It was like the previous 'match' had never occurred the way Tom bounced around the ring. Mark lunged at him, but Tom sidestepped and all Mark got was an armful of air.

Mark tried again, but Tom was just one step ahead... it looked like this would turn into a very interesting competition.

...

The unconscious forms of Jack and Evan were wheeled into the trainers' room for treatment. The second the door closed, two large forms barricaded themselves in front to it, preventing anyone from getting in, but more importantly preventing either Jack or Evan from escaping out.

"They ain't gettin' past us." Glenn said in a low voice.

"I'd like to see them try." Adam stated

"I'm sure you would." Glenn smiled. He'd personally recruited Adam for this job right after Mark choke slammed Evan. "But all we gotta do is keep them occupied." He knew very little about the situation other than what Mark had told him, but enough to know where his "brother" needed him the most.

"You still haven't told me exactly why we're doing this." Adam scratched his back against the door frame and let out a contented sigh when he hit the itch he could never reach.

"If I tell you, you'll keep your mouth shut?" Glenn demanded

Adam nodded and mimed a zipper across his lips.

"Evan and Jack blackmailed Marky into doing their dirty work. You know about how messy his divorce is, right?" The way Glenn glared at Adam indicated that he should just agree, whether or not he knew being irrelevant, so he wouldn't have to say anything more.

Adam nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Accordin' to my bro, they got some photos of him with this Lawson guy Mark's been seein'... real incriminatin' shit, and it would be goin' to Sara Express-post if Mark refused to do what they told him."

"Which was what... beat up Tom?"

"And anyone else who got in the way." Glenn didn't mention Eric by name, but he knew.

"I didn't realize how much of a jealous asshole Evan could be. But he broke up with Tom first, didn't he?"

"I dunno what went on. Y'know Tom, he doesn't talk much 'bout his personal shit." Glenn shrugged, listening at the door for any sounds that they might be needed to stop an egress.

_At least not to people he doesn't trust._ Adam thought about saying that out loud, but he quickly quashed that idea. Tom was great at helping people he cared about, Just ask the Miz, Jay, or Matt and Jeff, but him asking for help was rare. It had taken a lot of beer one night before Tom was able to put his own guilty feelings about Jeff's pseduo-rape behind him, but Adam had been the one to finally get through to him.

A couple loud bangs from inside turned both their attentions to the door.

"Looks like someone woke up." It was scary to see Glenn smile, but the Big Red Monster was actually hoping that the door would open. _No one fucks with my Mark and gets away with it._

...

"Randy!" Matt shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls in the bowels of the arena.

"Orton, can you hear me?" Eric was a few steps ahead, and every so often he'd stop to either bang on a crate or listen for a reply to their calls.

"Please, Randy, answer me." Matt was on the verge of tears, and he didn't care if Eric saw.

"Keep it together Matt. We'll find him." The moment Tom had stepped through the curtain, Matt had left his sleeping brother in their locker room to start his own search. The only person he'd found was Eric, or had Eric found him??? The events of the past days were all starting to blend together for the middle Hardy brother. Either they found Randy or he was going to have a nervous breakdown.

"Randy!" Matt shouted again. They were already past where the WWE stored all their production equipment, but Eric's assumption was that Randy was a: in the arena and b: someplace no one would think to look but c: somewhere easily accessible in case Jack and Evan had to make a hasty escape.

"Matt, it's very hard to concentrate when you're..." Eric stopped in mid-sentence.

"Did you hear something?" Matt gut-whispered

Eric held up his hand for absolute silence. There was no sound, except for something that could be dripping water. Matt also strained his ears.

"Randy!" This time it was Eric who shouted.

Both men stood absolutely still. One heartbeat... two heartbeats... then a noise.

"Did you hear that?" Matt asked

"Shhh... follow me." Eric walked down a corridor to the boiler room, Matt walking faster, several times bumping into Eric in his desperate haste to find out who or what was making that noise.

"Slow down." Eric cautioned after Matt had bumped into him for the third or fourth time. "It'll do no good for either of us if you break your leg tripping over something. I know you're anxious, but... chill."

Reluctantly, Matt slowed down but soon realized that Eric was right. They made steadier progress if Matt wasn't bumping into things every second step.

"Someone sure doesn't want us back here." Eric noticed an unusually large amount of skids and cardboard laying about. "Usually there's a clear path to the boiler room. Looks like whatever's back here whomever put it there didn't want anyone to find it... it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I'm thinking it does."

Matt subconsciously crossed his fingers that it meant the emotional quest he'd been forced into was almost over.

Eric stepped over one last box and stood before a set of double doors, chained shut, with the words 'boiler room' written on a brass plate.

"We're definitely on the right track. It's against code to keep these doors locked like this."

"Randy!" Matt shouted "It's me Matt! We're coming to get you!"

"Shhh." Eric slapped his hand over Matt's mouth. "Sound travels... the last thing I want is a physical confrontation with those two jokers." Neither Matt nor Eric knew what had happened in the ring, or that at this point silence was totally unnecessary.

"Anybody in there?" Eric rattled the doors and waited for some sound within. Just as Matt was prepared to ask Eric to do it again, they heard a sound, almost like a muffled scream, coming from within.

"Bolt cutters... bolt cutters... bolt cutters... you seen any around?" In the dim light, Eric couldn't make out a whole lot outside a small circle.

"Will that work?" Matt pointed to the axe in a nearby glass case.

"If you can swing one."

"Can I swing one?" Matt scoffed, shattering the case's front with his elbow. "I started chopping wood for my dad when I was seven."

Matt hefted the axe, a lighter version than the one he was used to, but still strong enough to do the job with a square hit. "Why do I feel like Kate Winslet?" he asked, referring to a famous scene in "Titanic".

"Who?"

"Kate Wins... never mind." Matt lined up the blade with the two links of the chain that were pressed against the door handle.

Eric watched, not willing to tell Matt that not only did he get the reference, but he'd seen Titanic so many times he could recite the entire movie line for line.

Matt swung once, hitting the chain right where he wanted to but not breaking it.

Eric stepped forward to inspect the damage. He nodded satisfactorily. "One more swing like that should do it."

Matt nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He closed his eyes, knowing that he was going to shatter the chain before he even swung. The sound of metal on concrete proved him right.

While Matt reveled in his victory, Eric, with a mighty jerk, opened the nearer of the two doors. A cloud of steam billowed from the room.

"Randy? You in here?" He shouted, fanning the thick steam away from his face.

"Randy?" Matt repeated

The sounds that had led them to this spot were louder, but they couldn't make out anyone through the smoke.

"Follow me." Eric ran inside. Without a second thought, Matt followed.

...

"Much as I hate to say this, there doesn't seem to be any signs of concussion on either of you."

"Thanks, doc... what happened to your Hippocratic oath?" Evan sneered

"I left that at home. I may have to treat my patients, but nowhere does it say I have to agree with their actions." The trainer, disgusted, turned away from them, mumbling several obscenities.

"Well, fuck you too." Evan retorted "C'mon Jack, let's grab our insurance policy and get the hell outta here."

Evan confidently opened the door, but found the surprise waiting for him.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Adam growled

"We're leaving. There's nothing you can do to stop us, fuck-wad." Evan was prepared to take on Edge, having Tyler to back him up, but his plans soon changed when America's favorite Crispy Critter stepped into view.

"Care to rethink that?" Kane towered over both of them, and weighed almost as much as Evan and Jack combined. This destroyed any idea that either of them may have had about making a quick getaway, with or without Randy.

Evan groaned. Nearby, Jack turned four shades whiter.

"Look, we don't want any trouble from you..."

Kane looked at Edge and they both started laughing.

"It's not us you have to worry about. In fact, we might be the only chance you have of surviving longer than ten minutes." Edge stated

"Yeah... there are a few other people who have an interest in what happens to you two... Matt, Jeff, Randy, Tom, Mark, James..." Kane counted on his fingers. "Did I miss anyone?"

"Maybe Eric wants a piece of these two as well?" Adam added

Kane recounted the names. "That makes seven, not counting the two of us... hmmm, it looks like it's gonna be a long night."

They started laughing again.

"We're fucked." Jack whispered

"Not yet, we're not." Evan whispered "I got a back-up plan."

...

"Have you found him?" Matt asked, a tinge of panic creeping into his voice.

"Not yet." Eric returned to the middle of the room and looked around again, almost like he was trying to figure out where the noise could be coming from. "Don't worry yet. If he's in here, we WILL find him."

"Randy?" Matt shouted again. The muffled shout seemed to come from a spot nearby.

"He sounds nearby, but we've searched everywhere." Eric replied, looking around. Purely by accident, he looked up. "Fuck me!"

"What?" Matt had not seen where Eric had been staring at.

"Look." Eric pointed up. A catwalk ran across the length of the room and from where they stood, both Matt and Eric could see a large shape manacled to the steel supports.

"Fuck! Randy!" Matt screamed, taking off for a set of stairs he'd seen during his earlier searches, Eric on his coattails.

In seconds, they were on the catwalk and at Randy. He'd been bound, gagged, and shackled in such a way that he couldn't move more than a couple inches in either direction without choking himself.

"Randy... oh my God, Randy..." Matt started to cry, seeing his lover after so long. He moved as if to hug him, but was held back by Eric.

"Let's get him untied first." Eric stated

Matt swallowed loudly, trying to stay calm but one look at Randy's bruised and swollen face started him off again. Randy looked like he'd lost a fight with the entire front line of the Pittsburgh Steelers, but to Matt, he'd never looked so beautiful.

"Hold his arms and legs still while I get these things off him." Eric removed a long tool from his pocket and used it to start picking the locks on the the shackles. It was slow going, but eventually Randy was no longer chained to the metal rails. It was much easier to remove the handcuffs and shackles once Randy was free.

"This might hurt." Eric ripped the duct tape from Randy's mouth. It was all he could do to whimper.

"Matt?"

"Randy..." Matt was now bawling uncontrollably. "I'm here." He cradled the torn body of his lover in his arms. He was quite happy to stay there with Randy, but Eric had other ideas.

"I hate to interrupt this Kodak moment, but I'd suggest we get outta here just in case Tweedledum and Tweedledumber come looking for him." Eric cast a worried glance in the direction of the door like an interruption was expected any moment.

"Can you walk?" Matt asked, standing and letting Randy put all his body weight on him. Randy got to his feet, but wobbled unsteadily and were it not for Matt's grip would've gone over the railing of the catwalk to the floor below.

"Easy, man. Nice and slow." Matt draped Randy's arm over his shoulder and they gingerly moved Randy to firmer ground.

"Home, Matty... please?" Randy whispered

"As soon as we can get you out of here." Matt whispered, the tears flowing freely because he was so happy to have Randy back. He was starting to fear that he may never see his legend-killin' lover ever again.

"Where are we going to take him?" Eric asked, offering his body to take some of the weight from Matt. Randy cringed when Eric took his arm.

"No! Just Matt!" He yelled hoarsely, nearing bringing both of them crashing onto the ground when he violently draped the arm Eric had taken around Matt.

"Okay." Eric knew when to back off. "Ideas?"

"Let's see if we can get him into our locker room without being seen. We'll deal with what to do from there." Matt adjusted Randy's arms so he wasn't being throttled, but with no luck. Eventually he gave up and just carried Randy like a newborn down the corridor with Eric in the lead, pushing any obstacles out of the way.

They barely got back into their room without being seen. Matt actually sprinted the last forty feet when he realized that they would have to go passed the trainers room. This after overhearing the latest in the conversation between Evan and Jack and Glenn and Adam.

"...no legal right to keep us prisoner.." Evan shouted

"Just like you kept Randy..." The rest of Glenn's sentence was cut off by the closing of the door.

"Lay him down somewhere." Eric started grabbing towels and anything else soft he could to use as a temporary bed.

"Home?" Randy whined

"In a minute, babe." Matt whispered, setting his boyfriend down on a thick pile of towels using Matt's travel bag as a pillow.

"What the fuck... you found him!" So wrapped up were they, that neither of them heard the door open again.

"Jeffro, shut the fuckin' door." Matt hissed

"Sorry." Jeff apologized, quickly sealing the door again.

"S'okay." Matt wiped a mixture of perspiration and tears from his face.

"Where was he?" Jeff asked

"Strapped to a catwalk in the boiler room." Eric growled, carefully watching the door.

"Those motherfuckers! Lemme at 'em!" Jeff was going to take them both on himself, a fact made clear when he tried to leave. Eric blocked the door.

"You'll do no such thing." He said in his don't-fuck-with-me voice. "The only thing you're gonna do is figure out a way to tell your brother that our mission was successful."

"Tommy's still in the ring. It shouldn't be too hard for me to interfere in the match." Jeff stated

"I'd rather you do it from backstage. After what the doctor said, I don't want you anywhere near that ring." Matt said

"Party-pooper." Jeff grumbled

"Please, Jeffro..." Matt whined "Do it for Randy 'n me."

"Be right back." Jeff eased out of the locker room and skipped down the hall, making it look like he was going to raid the candy machines.

"Hungry again, Jeff? I swear that you should weight three hundred pounds with all the candy you stuff into you." He skipped past Shane, who couldn't resist a jab.

"Skittles are yummy." Jeff sang back.

"You've mentioned that once or twice before." Shaking his head in bewilderment, Shane returned to his pre-match warming up. As soon as Shane was out of sight, Jeff quickly curtailed his purchasing and ran to the production truck. Without bothering to knock, he burst inside.

"What are you..."

"Is there anyway you can get a message to Tommy and Mark?" Jeff stared at the monitors. The hell in a cell match was still going on, completely oblivious to the drama that had already unfolded backstage.

"It has to be a short one. No more than two words."

Jeff thought for a moment. It had to be short and sweet so that it could be passed to Tom and/or Mark without arousing suspicion.

"Tell them 'it's done'." Jeff stated

The production crew relayed the message to the ring, through referee Scott Armstrong's earpiece. Mark and Tom were busy wailing away at each other outside the ring and, even though he didn't know exactly what the message meant, he promised to get it to one of them as soon as it was feasible.

Jeff quickly returned to the scene of his crime: the candy machine. If it was going to appear that he had bought candy, it would make sense if he was seen chomping on some.

"Mmmm... Skittles..." Jeff danced back toward their locker room, only pausing when he saw people to eat a handful of the precious fruity candy.

He skipped past the trainers' room, laughing to himself when he saw the situation that was unfolding there. He almost felt sorry for Jack and Evan when he saw that Glenn and Adam were guarding the door, effectively making them prisoners. But then he remembered what Randy looked like, and any pity was gone in seconds.

Jeff winked sultrily at them, then danced away. There was good news to deliver, Skittles to eat, and if everything worked out the way he'd hoped, he'd get a reward for his work.

...

Outside the ring, Mark and Tom were trading punches. Tom ducked one of Mark's swings and peppered him with several stiff left hands.

"Whip." He whispered, taking a step backward, and running at Mark. 'Taker elbowed Tom, then whipped him toward the ring steps. Instead of going shoulder-first, his momentum carried him over the steps, his knee banging awkwardly off the corner. Tom had never felt pain like that in his life. He clutched his knee and screamed when he felt a bump on the side of it.

"You okay?" The referee asked, jumping from the ring to crouch above him.

"Do I look fuckin' alright to you?" Tom shouted, grinding his teeth to block out the pain.

The ref signaled for assistance, as well as for the cage to rise.

Tom writhed on the floor. Every time he looked at the lump, he got sick to his stomach.

"Just hold still. Paramedics are on their way. Can you straighten your leg at all?"

Tom moved it an inch and screamed again. He saw white spots on the edge of his vision.

"Stretcher's here. Stay with us." The referee gently slapped Tom's face whenever he looked like he was going to pass out.

"I'm tryin'." Tom looked up through glazed eyes.

"Don't try. Do it. Do it for Randy."

"Randy?" Tom's eyes widened

"Yeah, they found him." Chioda said softly

"They did? Thank God." The pain finally overtook him and he faded into blackness.

The gurney went up the stage, Mark tailing close behind.

_I hope you two are fuckin' happy. _


	9. Begonias

Begonias

Both Tom and Randy were taken to the same hospital; Tom for x-rays on his injured knee and Randy for a complete examination. For Tom, the news was not good. The lump he'd felt on the side of his knee was in fact his kneecap which had been totally dislocated by contact with the corner of the steel steps. That meant not only hours of surgery to remove the damaged bone, but a questionable future.

"Mr. Hardy." The surgeon entered Tom's room where Tom lay sprawled on his bed.

"Yeah?" Tom asked, finding the doctor's voice quite soothing. _The morphine must be kicking in._

"I wish I had better news, but here it is." The x-rays were shown to Tom, the fluorescents in the room backlighting them. "Your kneecap is completely severed. We noticed what looked like a healed fracture which probably caused the total dislocation..."

"I cracked it a few months ago." Tom answered

This elicited a frown from the doctor. "I don't know who took care of it last time, but I'd suggest you check his medical license. You should not have been wrestling at all."

"What? Not wrestling? All he did was give me a brace and told me to ice it until the swelling went down. He said nothing about not wrestling... fuck..." Tom looked over at Jeff for comfort.

"You'll have more time to spend with me." Jeff gently brushed some loose hairs from Tom's forehead. The touch was soothing, but Tom was still pissed at Youngblood's latest screw-up. He knew he should've listened to Matt when he suggested that Tom get a second opinion but given their personal relationship at the time, he blew it off, and was now regretting that mistake.

"So where do we go from here?" Tom wanted some idea of what his future held before he passed out completely.

"Hopefully up. You see this white area." The doctor circled an area which encompassed the entire ball joint. "Arthritis."

"I'm only thirty-six. How the fuck can i have arthritis already?" Tom wished that the pain medication was causing his ears to malfunction but judging from Jeff's expression, that wasn't the case.

"Your career for one thing." _Duh!_

"Stupid question."

"We're sending you for pre-op labs tomorrow, and then surgery the day after. We could just shove your kneecap back into place, but either way, you're going to need a new knee. We can do it now, or we can wait ten years. If we do it now, you're out six months. If we wait, it could be a year or longer before the recovery is total."

"You askin' me or tellin' me?" Drowsiness was starting to overtake Tom.

"You're the boss. There will be a less painful recovery if we do it sooner than later."

"I guess I have no choice." _I just signed a new contract with WWE. What the fuck will Linda say? What are we gonna do for money? I'm too old to..."_ While he was thinking, Tom fell asleep.

"I'll be back when we're ready to take him upstairs."

"Can I stay here?" Jeff asked

"I don't see why not. A nurse will check in every hour or so."

Outside the room, Mark paced nervously. He had heard nothing from Jack and Evan after his match, which did not concern him a whole lot given what he'd done to the two of them during his hell in a cell with Tom. _Maybe the fuckers are still unconscious._ At least since he'd injured Tom like they had asked even though it was accidental, or at least that's what Mark kept telling himself.

"How is he?" Mark asked the doctor when he emerged.

"You family?"

"No." Mark answered, knowing what the next words were going to be.

"I'll be right back." Jeff had also heard Mark and shimmied from Tom's side. He flung back the door and stared at Mark, hate spewing from his eyes.

"It's okay, doc, tell him. Tell him what he did to my Tommers? That his career is over and he needs reconstructive surgery because of what you did!" Having controlled his emotions long enough, the tears started flowing with his words.

"I can explain." Mark had prepared himself for a verbal raping, but the words still hurt.

"Shut up!" Jeff screamed "You think I give a shit about what you have to say? You're an asshole and I hateyouIhateyouIhateyou..." The words dissolved into harsh sobs.

Hoping this was the right thing to do, Mark took Jeff and held him against his chest, stroking his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm so fuckin' sorry." He whispered "You're right... I am an asshole. All I thought about was what I wanted..." Mark abruptly pushed Jeff aside and walked away. _I've royally fucked myself this time._

...

On another floor, Matt and Randy were anxiously waiting for the results of the physical. Randy had claimed he was fine, other than exhaustion, but Matt wanted to be sure. It wasn't the doctor who entered that caused Matt to jump, it was Randy's father.

"Randy, my boy, what the hell is goin' on?" Matt was totally ignored by the Cowboy.

"Dad, everything is fine." Randy answered

"The hell it is, son. I wouldn't fly halfway across the continent if everything was fine. Now what is goin' on? I'm not leavin' until you tell me."

"It's nothing Dad, really. I got into a bit of trouble with a couple guys who hate Matt's family, that's all." Randy moaned, praying that Bob would understand without needing any more explanations. Matt and Randy hadn't told Randy's parents yet; they were waiting until the right time.

"Why in God's name would someone use you to..." Bob had been looking from Matt to Randy back and forth. "Boy, tell me it ain't true what I been hearin'?"

Randy swallowed. The senior Orton's tone was one he knew well and feared.

"Mr. Orton, Sir, I don't know what you've heard, but let me..."

"Stay out of this." Orton turned his rage to Matt. "You've done enough, dontcha think? Corruptin' my boy. Now tell me the truth, son. Tell me you're not a faggot!"

Randy flinched and reached for Matt's hand. This was all the Cowboy needed to go off again.

"Well, fuck. I thought I raised you right, boy."

"You did..."

"I musta done somethin' wrong 'coz I didn't raise no ass-fucking faggot!" Orton bellowed "Just how long have you been carryin' on like this? Wait, I don't wanna know."

"Dad, I..."

"And you?" Orton faced Matt. "I shoulda known better, considering how sick the rest of your family is. Randy, what were you thinking, getting involved with someone like... like this?" He looked at Matt like he was an insect that needed to be exterminated immediately.

Matt shrugged. This was precisely the reason neither he nor Randy had been forthcoming about their relationship to Randy's father.

Bob took two deep breaths and Randy hoped that maybe he was going to calm down. But his words dashed that.

"I have no son." Just like that, Bob replaced his cowboy hat and walked out of his son's life.

"Dad, wait... Dad!" Randy shouted at him. Even though he heard his son call to him, Cowboy Bob Orton never looked back. He never looked back.

When it was obvious that Randy's father wasn't going to come back, grief overwhelmed the younger Orton.

"Shhh..." Matt hopped onto the side of the bed, pulling Randy in close. "It'll be okay, Ran. I'm sure that once he realizes that just because he doesn't understand our love, it is not gonna go away, he'll be back."

"But what if he doesn't?" Randy sobbed into Matt's neck.

"He will. I promise you." Matt held his lover close. "If he's not willing to accept you for the man you are, not the man he wants you to be, then it's his loss. He can't stop you from being happy with whomever you want... you are happy with me, right?"

"Yes." Randy looked up, eyes red-rimmed with tears. "I want to be with you forever."

Both their heads turned when the door opened again. For one brief flash, Randy hoped it was his dad, finally having a change of heart. Unfortunately, it was only the doctor, clutching a sheaf of papers. The results of Randy's battery of tests, Matt assumed.

"I have your results here, Mister Orton." The doctor pulled out a series of papers stapled together and began to read. "You have minor tendon damage in your left and right wrists and a fracture of the fifth metacarpal. Nothing that won't heal with rest and support. We're gonna keep you on a fluid drip overnight. You're still really dehydrated and if I may say so, you need to eat soon."

Randy nodded. He had been furiously trying to expunge the memories of his ordeal from his mind, but one thing stood out... they had hardly fed him the entire time he was captive.

"Other than that, you've survived remarkably well.. Except for, oh dear..." The doctor skimmed the last paragraph and frowned.

"What? What's wrong?" Randy asked, a scared look in his eyes. He clutched onto Matt.

"Uhm... Mr. Hardy, could I have a work with you?"

"Why? What's going on? Matt, talk to me, please?" Randy's eyes started watering again.

"I'll be right back, love."

"Don't leave me, please!" Randy begged

"I'm just going to talk to the doctor. I promise I will be right back. Just relax. Here." Matt reached into a bag of things he'd brought to the hospital and removed a familiar brown object.

"Cuddles?" Randy reached for the beloved bear.

"He's missed you almost as much as I have."

"Mr. Hardy... now?"

Matt left Randy to snuggle with his teddy and followed the doctor outside.

"You'd asked us to run a rape kit. I thought it best if I gave you the results first..."

"He was raped, wasn't he?" Matt sighed "Dammit."

"There was evidence of forcible penetration, with some tearing of the anal membranes. We found traces of semen and sent them off to the police labs for DNA analysis."

"Why are you telling me and not Randy?" The rationale of the doctor was a little confusing and Matt hoped it wasn't because he was expected to deliver the news.

"In situations like this, I have found that telling the family of the victim first helps the victim cope. That way it's not a complete shock to all parties and now that you know, you have an idea of how Mr. Orton will respond."

"Yeah. That's the part that worries me. Randy has a bit of a temper."

The two men returned. Randy was exactly as they'd left him, cuddled up with Cuddles. Immediately taking Randy's free hand in his own, Matt waited for the doctor to repeat what he'd just been told.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but in addition to the physical tests we ran a check for sexual assault..."

A look at Matt was all it took for Randy to understand where this was going.

"We found evidence..." Randy tuned out the rest of the doctor's words, focusing instead on the sad eyes of his Cuddles.

_Fuckers raped me? When? How? _

"Randy? Are you okay?" Matt noticed the glazed look in Randy's eyes.

"Huh?" The sound of Matt's voice was all it took for the Legend Killer to be snapped back to the present.

"You zoned out on us."

"Oh... yeah, I'm fine."

"Stay as long as you like, but bed rest is definitely in order for Mr. Orton. I'll have a nurse check on you and I've scheduled an appointment with our on-staff counselor..."

"Counselor. I don't need to talk to anyone." Randy barked

"But you have just been through a traumatic experience..."

"I can handle it." Continually interrupting the doctor was giving Randy a cheap sense of accomplishment, but it was clearly frustrating the other two men in the room.

"Randy, we'll talk about this after you've rested a while." Matt rubbed Randy's arm, hoping the simple gesture would calm his lover down. It didn't quite work out that way as Randy glared at both of them and squeezed Cuddles to his chest.

"Nothin' to talk about, man. Nothin' to talk about." Randy leaned back in the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay." At times like this, Matt knew it was better just to agree with Randy. "Since you got Cuddles, do you mind if I go upstairs to check on Tom?" He and Randy had left the arena before Tom's misfortune, but a phone call from a panicky Jeff had soon brought him up to date.

"He's here too?"

"Yeah. He blew out his knee in the match with Mark Jeff thinks it wasn't an accident."

"Mark did it on purpose? That doesn't sound like him." For a brief second, Randy locked eyes with Matt, but then returned to staring at the acoustic tile.

"I dunno the whole story, man. That's all Jeff told me. You don't mind?"

"Nah.. he's family. I'll still be here when you get back."

"Cool. Love ya." Matt noticed a slight cringe when he kissed Randy. "Be right back."

Three floors above, Matt got off the elevator. He followed the sound of Jeff's voice; he could not stay quiet no matter how hard he tried. The only person in history to be banned from the New York, Bangor, and Ronald Reagan Libraries in the same week, Jeff had never learned how to use his "indoor voice".

"...calm down." Tom was saying, and it sounded like Jeff was either ignoring his husband, or choosing not to understand English.

"Imma not calm down! Marky hurt you and Imma hate him!"

"That's fine, but can you hate him quietly? The pain in my knee is paling in comparison to the headache you're causing."

"I guess I don't hafta ask how things are going up here?" Matt stepped into view.

"Matty!" Jeff squealed, opening his arms for a hug.

"Jeffro!" Matt gladly returned the embrace. "I'd ask how you two are doing, but I think the whole hospital knows by now."

"Told ya." Tom smirked

"Marky hurt Tommy, see?" Jeff pointed to Tom's deformed joint.

"Ew." Matt grimaced "What the fuck happened?"

"Fucker pulled a spot. 'Taker still doesn't know how fuckin' strong he is. Threw me over the steps instead of into them... well, almost over them."

"Tommy needs surgery and doctors say he'll never wrestle again." Jeff sulked "I hate Marky."

"Jeff, it's not entirely Mark's fault and you know that. I'm as much to blame as anyone else in this equation." Briefly, Tom explained the entire situation to his brother.

"Wow!" Matt whistled. "You're finished, Jeff's finished, Randy's got a long road before he'll be ready to go back. I'm the last Ace standing."

"That's the quickest I've ever seen a stable disbanded in the history of the WWE." Tom added, trying to make the situation a little less grave. "Randy not doing so well, I gather?"

"Physically, he'll be fine. Emo-wise, he's a mess." Matt told his brothers about Cowboy Bob's blow-up, but left out the whole business of the rape.

"Emo-wise, we're all a mess." Tom agreed "But we'll get through it. We're Hardys."

...

The moment he closed his eyes, Randy returned to being flat on his back with Evan on top of him. He repeatedly tried to call out for help, but the gag over his mouth made any sound impossible. The ropes binding his hands and feet made struggle likewise impossible, but it didn't prevent Evan from slamming into him again and again and again.

"No! Stop! Please! It hurts!"

In seconds, Matt was at Randy's side. "Randy...?" He whispered, hoping the sound of his voice would be enough to bring him around.

Randy continued to claw at the air.

"Randy, wake up!" Matt said a little louder.

Orton's eyes flew open and Matt saw a look of fear paralyze his face. He shied away from Matt, knocking Cuddles onto the floor, biting down on his arm to stifle a scream that threatened to wake up the entire ward.

"It's just me." Matt picked up the stuffed bear and dusted it off before holding it out to Randy like a peace offering to show that he wasn't gonna do anything to hurt him.

"Matt?" In the dim light, Matt's face wasn't readily visible. "What's going on?"

"You were having a bad dream. Again."

Randy snatched away the bear and held it tightly against his body again. Three days and three nights had passed since Randy was first admitted to the hospital and this was not the first time that he'd awakened from the same nightmare. Matt had not left his side for no longer that ten minutes, and only when he needed to eat or go to the bathroom. One of the charge nurses had quickly caught on how devoted Matt was and had arranged for a meal to be brought for Matt as well as Randy at meal times.

"Matty?" Randy was shivering, but the room itself wasn't that cold. "I'm cold."

Matt could tell. He wrapped his arms around Randy to warm him up, but that didn't seem to help. If anything, Randy only started to shake worse.

"Fuck." Matt reached for the nurse's call button and pushed it. It seemed like forever until a nurse arrived.

"I'll get some warming blankets." She realized the situation immediately. Matt tried to keep Randy warm until she returned, but his shaking increased with each passing moment.

" Here we go." The nurse lowered the head of the bed, then draped several warm blankets over Randy's body. "These are for you." She handed a thick comforter and a pillow to Matt. "That chair isn't all that comfortable. I hope these will help."

"Thanks, ma'am. You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me."

"No trouble. Lunch will be in about an hour." She smiled at both of them.

Matt watched the shakes slowly taper off.

"Try to get some sleep, Randy." Matt whispered, gently kissing his forehead. "You need to rest."

"I can't." Randy's voice cracked. "Every time I close my eyes, I see them. They keep doing it..."

"Maybe the doctor will give you something to help you sleep." Matt suggested "This can't continue."

But it did. Like the previous three nights, Matt was awakened to a nightmare and, like every other night, he crawled into Randy's bed and held him until he fell back asleep.

_I dunno about Randy, but I can't take much more of this. If only he'd see the counselor..._

Knowing it wouldn't last nearly long enough, Matt finally closed his eyes and dozed.

...

"Fuck!" Tom screamed "Double and triple fuck with fuck on top!"

"I told you this was a bad idea." Jeff held out his arms to Tommy.

"I am not staying in that bed another minute. " Tom gritted his teeth against the pain, taking a step with his good leg, then gingerly transferring the weight to his recently reconstructed right one. "Fuck!" He hissed

"Let's go back." Jeff suggested "You've done enough for today."

"If Adam can do flights of stairs the day after his surgery, I can do one lap of this floor." Tom took another step and winced.

"Addy had neck surgery, not his knee rebuilt, silly." Jeff replied "Don't make me carry you back to bed."

"Minor... fucking... detail." Tom took another two steps, then collapsed against a wall, sweat pouring off his face. "Okay, let's go back. But I am going to do this before I leave."

"Lemme at least take some of the weight." Jeff hung Tom's arm across his shoulders and, without having to put all his body weight on his bad wheel, the pair got back to Tom's room without too much trouble.

"Here." Jeff gave Tom a washcloth and he mopped the sweat from his face and neck.

"Thanks. I'm sorry I'm so stubborn, but I gotta do this. I refuse to be dependent on anyone."

"Gee, thanks." Jeff said thickly.

"I didn't mean it like that, honey. I just meant that I am going to beat this. I don't mind you helping me, but I'm going to get back on my feet and quickly." Tom crawled back into his bed and exhaled loudly. "Have you heard when I'm gettin' outta here?"

"Nah. Doc's won't tell me nothin'." Jeff answered

"Damn!" Tom looked at the room, filled with flowers and cards from fans and co-workers alike. There were at least twelve teddy bears in one corner of the room, and that didn't count the two dozen or so that Tom had given to be distributed to the pediatric ward. He wondered what he was going to do when he got home. Lizard tended to be very territorial about Tom and it had taken a long time for him to get used to sharing. Even Bunny had been viewed as a potential threat.

"Any of the boys been around?"

"Yeah... Matt's been by, Jay, Addy, even Zack Ryder stopped in." Jeff answered

"Ryder? You're kidding!" Tom exclaimed

"Who do you think left you that?" Jeff pointed to one of the floral displays. Red and white roses spelled out the words "woo woo woo" and "you know it" and were held by the paws of a cute pink elephant.

"Cute." Tom sighed "If you were outta the picture, he wouldn't make my top ten so I wish he'd stop tryin'." Zack's infatuation went back to the days when Tom was General Manager of ECW. "I thought he was with T-Reks anyway?"

"They split." Jeff answered "Don't you read Twitter?"

"Not recently. I prolly should since I seem to be missin' all the gossip." Tom answered, inhaling sharply. "Fuck this hurts."

"I told ya you overdid it. You should be thankful you weren't crippled."

"I am." Tom answered "Every morning I look in the mirror and say thank God I'm alive and that I'm not Zack Ryder!"

Jeff laughed aloud.

"I may use that as my new catch phrase if I ever get back into the ring." Tom chuckled "Every morning I look in the mirror and say thank God I'm alive and that I'm not Zack Ryder." He repeated "I like the sound o' that."

"What if you're wrestlin' Mark Henry?" Jeff asked "It won't work."

"I can change the name. It sounds a lot better than 'the Future is now'." Tom chewed on his bottom lip, a sign that he was thinking hard about something.

"Tommers, what's wrong?" Jeff knew the habit. It was one he used quite often and probably where Tom had picked it up in the first place.

"Mark hasn't been by, has he?"

"Uhhhhh..." Jeff stuttered

"Jeff..."

"He did, but you was sleeping."

"What did he want?" Tom queried

"I dunno. I told him to come back later." Jeff shrugged "I didn't want to wake you. The pain pills had just kicked in."

"Oh. He hasn't been back?" Wanting to clear the air with Mark was a priority on his list.

"No." Jeff lied. Mark had been back, twice, but both times Jeff had sent him away before he even got a chance to see Tom.

"Dammit." Tom wriggled down into a more comfortable position, although there weren't that many positions that would qualify as that.

...

At that very moment, Mark was pulling into the driveway of the place he now called home. Feeling a combination of anger, irritation, and being sorry for himself, he did what he usually did when he felt like this. He bought himself a new toy. A two hundred thirty-thousand dollar 1931 Crocker 61 motorcycle to be exact. Parking it next to the other bikes belonging to himself and James, he kicked open the door leading from the garage.

"Honey, I'm home." He yelled

"It's about fuckin' time." A deep voice boomed from the kitchen. "You were s'posed to be home days ago."

Mark walked into the kitchen. James was at the table, drinking a beer and throwing his knife at the wall. It wasn't the holes in the wall that bothered Mark. Hell, it was James' house and if the fucker wanted to trash it, who was he to argue. It was the piles of empty beer bottles that concerned him. Mark stopped counting when he reached three digits, and that barely covered the mess on the counters.

"Ran into a fuckin' problem." Mark looked around. Maybe James had left him one or two.

"More in the fridge." James sensed what Mark was lookin' at. "Don't worry. I didn't drink 'em all today."

"Kids around?" Mark asked

"Fuck no. The little buggers are showin' off Connor's new dog around the neighborhood."

"Snoopy? I thought everybody had seen it already."

"Little bastard wouldn't shut up about wanting another pet so Cooper bought him another dog. Named it Thor. Pass me 'nother fuckin' beer, Marky."

"Sounds like you had a better fuckin' time than I did."

"Yeah, right. At least you got to put someone in the fuckin' hospital." James took the beer and drank it quickly.

Mark finished his beer, looking sullenly around the kitchen at the empties, the holes in the wall, the man responsible for both... was it all worth it?

"Marky... ya gonna tell me what the hell's eatin' ya before I take you upstairs and fuck it outta ya?"

Mark looked into his lover's eyes.

"I'll never understand you." When he wasn't being psychopathic, James could be borderline compassionate. Especially after he'd spent the better part of a week drinkin' beer. "You did what you had to do. Eventually."

"Eventually. You saw what I did to those guys, right?"

"Fuck yeah. They were fortunate that I'm banned from the shows or shit would've really hit the fan. Instead of one guy in the hospital, two guys would've gone to the morgue." James laughed at what he considered a joke.

"You're a real fuckin' help Lawson."

"Now you want my help?" James gasped "Usually my help is about as welcome as lube when we're fucking."

"James, please. I dunno what to do." Mark begged

The sight of his man, the Big, Bad Deadman, actually begging was starting to turn James on in a huge way.

"Make your peace with this Hardy jerk..." James got up from the table and walked over to Mark. He kissed Mark viciously, biting at his lips until they bled and licking the blood up like a feral animal.

The beer bottle that was in Mark's hand fell to the tile floor, shattering, as he returned the kiss with just as much force. Mark was immediately flung over James' shoulder, then carried up the stairs to their bedroom.

"...and leave the rest to me." Those were the last words James said before he claimed Mark as his own.


	10. Aloe Vera

Aloe Vera

"Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot..." Tom chanted his new mantra as he hobbled across the tiled hospital floor.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He was suddenly confronted by a very ornery head nurse.

"The same thing I've done every day since I got here: trying to get my mobility back." Tom retorted "I'm supposed to be leaving tomorrow."

"And if you keep pushing yourself before your knee is ready, you'll be back here the day after that."

What Tom wouldn't have given to be able to "Go Insane" on this large buzz-killing woman. "Fine." He grumbled under his breath.

"I don't want to catch you out of your room unless you're in a wheelchair."

Tom hobbled back to his room. He turned around once and stuck his tongue out at the nurse, who wagged her finger at him condescendingly.

"Stupid woman..." He muttered. "Why the hell couldn't Adam have had fun with a hippopotamus instead of needing a female for companionship?"

"What's this about me and Vickie?"

Tom looked up. Edge was leaning against the door to Tom's room, grinning widely. "Different Adam and a different hippopotamus."

Grimacing a little, Tom got back into his bed, politely refusing assistance from Adam. "It's okay man, I got it."

"Cool." Adam watched while Tom adjusted the blankets and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Sorry I haven't been by recently, but shit's been happenin'."

"Doesn't it always... how're you and Jay?"

"Incredible. I have never been so in love with someone in my life." A blush appeared on his cheeks. "By the way, Heyman wants to put E 'n C back together."

"Just no more five second poses, okay?" Tom smiled "They were corny."

"Awww... I liked those." Adam pouted

"You been up to see Randy at all?"

"Not since he arrived. I hear he ain't doin' so good." Adam's concern for his former tag-team partner was understandable, but from what Matt had said, visitors were always welcome. Whatever shit had been happenin' in Adam's life, it must be big.

"Yeah." Tom agreed "From what Matt told me, he's still not sleeping much, and eating even less..."

"I thought Matt was gonna get him to talk to a counselor."

"He tried. Randy refuses to talk to anyone about this. Even me." An offer had been made by Tom shortly after Randy initially balked at talking, but that idea was met with even more disdain.

"Orton'll deal with it in his own way, I'm sure." Adam answered

"What happened with you and Glenn and Evan and Jack after I left?" Tom was really curious. He'd heard nothing from anyone about it, and the news had nothing either.

Adam chortled, scratching the back of his neck. "You want the bad news or the shitty news?"

"Neither, if it can be helped."

"This is what I heard and I hope you understand that this is all secondhand what I'm telling you..."

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I'd like to know by then, if possible."

"Unless Orton starts talking, there's no physical proof to hold them for kidnapping. They have DNA for sexual assault, but again Randy has to talk."

"...and convincing Randy to do that isn't gonna be easy. Are they even in custody?"

"That's the shitty news: no." Adam answered

"Nothing's ever easy, is it?"

"If your last name is Hardy, then no. Anyway, I gotta split. Call me once you get home and I'll bring the gang over for a poker night or something."

"I'd like that." Tom replied

"One last thing. Mark wanted me to give you this. He said he tried to deliver it in person, but Jeff wouldn't let him see you."

Tom's eyes narrowed. _Is that why Mark's been a stranger? Jeff has some explaining to do..._

Adam handed a single sheet of paper to Tom. "Later, man."

Tom stared at the paper for several minutes once he was alone. "Oh well, can't get any worse than it already is." Reading the note, his eyes got even wider and he had to reread it twice more before the everything made sense. Well, not everything, but...

"Hardy," it read "hopefully Copeland gets this to ya before the rumors start flyin'. I know this may sound like compete bullshit, but what happened in the ring between us was an accident..."

"That's for sure." Tom continued to read.

"I'm going to explain my side of things and maybe it'll make sense. I don't know what you've heard about my divorce, but I guess the Deadman isn't as good at creeping around outside the ring as he is inside. Bourne found out that I was shackin' up with someone else and he threatened to go to Sara with pictures. The only way I could keep James out of the picture is to do what they wanted, and what they wanted was to take you out permanently..."

"Well, you succeeded." Tom grunted "Whether you meant to or not is irrelevant."

"... hopefully the fact I choke-slammed both of them makes up for it, at least a little bit. James said he would deal with them personally and that scares even me. He takes territorial to a new level."

"So I've heard." Tom stuck the letter under his pillow when he heard the doorknob rattle. It was his husband, returning from whatever errands he'd been running.

"Hi, baby." Jeff dropped a bag on the floor and rushed over to give Tom a big hug and wet, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

"Mmm... I missed you." Tom kissed Jeff back, his tongue automatically seeking out the warm cavity of Jeff's mouth. "Where'd you go?" Once he had to break for oxygen, he spoke.

"Home. I got you some clothes for when you leave tomorrow."

"Thank-you." Tom ruffled Jeff's hair, pulling him in closer for another kiss. "I really missed you."

"I can tell." Jeff had felt something hard poking his stomach while they kissed.

"Stupid nurse won't let me outta bed." Tom sulked "She says Imma hurt myself and hafta come back."

"That sucks." Jeff answered "You've been walking the halls every day since your surgery and now they have a fuckin' problem with it. Ya want me to bitch her out?"

"Nah, I'll just have to work harder when I get home." Tom smiled "You stayin' for a while or do you hafta go?"

"I was gonna see Matty and Randy, but other than that... Tommy!"

Tom's hand had crept up Jeff's leg and was now squeezing the bulge in his jeans.

"You remember what you said to me that day in the psych ward?" Tom grinned

"Uh... yeah?"

"Well, I'm not wearing anything under my gown either."

Without no hesitation whatsoever, Jeff climbed into bed with Tom.

"What if we're seen? Whadda we do then?"

"I don't know and I am so horny right now that I don't even care." Tom stated "Now shush and kiss me."

...

"Randy, you've gotta eat something... please?" Matt begged

Randy eyed the plate of food, but shook his head. "I ain't hungry." He said through clenched teeth.

"You've been sayin' that for two days. You know that if you don't eat, they're gonna feed you through a tube." The downward spiral Randy had been slowly slipping into had gotten progressively worse since another incident with the Cowboy. The younger Orton had received a letter from his father and, hoping it was an apology, Randy had anxiously read it. It was anything but that. Orton senior had literally torn his son to shreds yet again and since then, Randy hadn't said but ten words to anyone, refused to eat, and slept only when the medications took over. The spark that Matt had fallen in love with was being extinguished and it was crushing both of them.

"You were supposed to be coming home with me today." Matt sighed "Now, they're not gonna let you leave until to agree to talk to their shrink."

Randy turned over, facing away from Matt. What Orton really wanted was to be left alone so he could deal with these things in his own way.

"Keep this up and you'll drive everyone away who still loves you... even me."

He didn't want to lose Matt, that was for certain, but if Matt knew how much Randy was really hurting, he'd leave anyway. It wasn't just the kidnapping, or the rape, or even the Cowboy that was bothering him. There was something else, but Randy couldn't explain it to himself, much less anybody else.

"Just go." Randy whispered "Please Matt, let me handle this on my own."

Matt didn't believe that Randy could handle this by himself any more than Jeff could do his own taxes. "Fine. But if I go, I can't promise that I'll be back."

"Do what you hafta do."

"If that's how you want it to be, then okay." Matt responded, even though he knew he'd be back. He couldn't stay away from Randy, no matter how much it seemed that Orton didn't want him around. "Tom's checking out today. Maybe I'll go see how he's doing. I'm sure he'd welcome a friend."

Randy grunted, not even bothering to look at Matt as he left.

In the corridor, Matt leaned his forehead against a wall, pounding it with his fist several times. "Randy, don't shut me out." He whispered "Please."

...

"What the fuck do you two think you're doing? And here, of all places?"

"Since as of this morning, the head honcho on this floor has a problem with me walking for exercise, I had to find some other way." Tom coughed discreetly. "You can get off me now."

Jeff giggled.

"But here, man? What if it wasn't me that busted in? At least I'm used to seeing the two of you fuck." Matt had gone upstairs, hoping to find Jeff and Tom in a position to talk. The position he found them in had very little to do with talking.

"Like you and Randy have never done it in public?" Jeff joked "Pleeeease."

Matt's face clouded. "Not that it's any of your fuckin' business little bro, but Randy and I haven't done it yet. Period." _And if he doesn't stop acting like he has, then we never will._

Jeff started to pout. He always hated it when Matty yelled at him. Usually this got an apology from Matt, but not this time.

"And stop acting like a baby!" Matt yelled "Fuck, I really don't need this right now!" Tossing his arms up in the air, Matt stormed out of the room.

"Matty, wait... Imma didn't mean it." Jeff bounced off the bed and started to follow Matt.

"Jeffro, I wouldn't." Tom cautioned, gingerly swinging his legs over the side and slowly standing up.

"But Matty..." Jeff pointed at the door to make his point.

"Matty's been put through a lot more that he should have. Obviously the two of us are not what he needs right now."

"Obviously." Jeff sulked

"This time, let's do the right thing. Let's leave him to deal with this himself."

"But..."

"I know what you're gonna say. Remember what happened the last time Matt was having relationship troubles. Having his two brothers butt in almost tore the three of us apart." Tom stretched out his leg, wincing when he felt something pop.

"So what do we do now?"

"You are going to pass me my clothes and then go buy some Skittles or something to keep you outta trouble for a bit."

"Yay! Skittles! I love you!" Jeff pounced on Tom, smothering his face with kisses.

"Enough. You're worse than Lucas!" Tom half-heartedly shielded himself from Jeff's barrage. "And while you're out there, maybe you can find out when I'm being discharged."

"Okay." Jeff removed his body from Tom's but didn't do much more than that. "Well?" he asked

"Well what?"

"Imma need money." Jeff announced

"I shoulda figured." Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm going to start putting you on an allowance."

"Yay!" Jeff repeated

"Ten bucks a week." Tom stated

"Aww... that's only..." Jeff counted on his fingers. "this many bags of Skittles." He held up seven.

"That's one a day. That's more sugar than you need, really."

Jeff stood there while Tom tossed his gown off. "Money?" He asked

"Did you bring my wallet?" Tom asked "If you didn't, then you'll be outta luck on that."

"Wasn't it in your pants?" Jeff demanded, getting a little impatient. He wanted his Skittles and he wanted them now.

"They brought me here in my ring gear." Tom replied "Did you collect my civvies from the arena?"

"Yeah... I threw them into your travel bag." Jeff retorted

"Then my wallet should be in there."

Jeff bounced over to the closet and soon returned with the canvas bag Tom carried everywhere. He dropped it onto the bed and began to rummage through it. "Here it is!" He exclaimed triumphantly

"Hey! Don't be such a nosy Ned!" Tom held out his hand when Jeff started looking through it.

Jeff pouted again, but gave Tom back his wallet. There were some things in it he didn't want anyone, even his husband, to see.

"Here. I don't have a ten, so hopefully you can get change somewhere."

"Imma be right back." Jeff threw open the door and ran head-first into the attending doctor.

"How are you today Jeff?" Everyone on the floor knew Jeff by sight.

"I got an owie!" He exclaimed, holding onto his head. "You ran into me!"

"I was here first." The doctor humored Jeff and took a quick look at his head. "Take two aspirin and have your brother kiss it all better."

Tom smirked. At his own insistence, their marital status was not mentioned. He had enough of people judging him for choosing to spend the rest of his life with his brother, he didn't need his insurance premiums going up as well.

"Are you coming to set me loose?" Tom asked

"I just wanted to go over your after-care first."

"Jeff, why don't you grab your Skittles and I'll meet you out front." Tom waved Jeff aside.

"Yay! Skittles!" Jeff danced away.

"Was he dropped on his head as a child?"

"Couldn't tell ya. He's only been in my life for less than a year." Tom responded "He just loves life."

"He loves you, that's for sure. It must run in the family. I'm also treating Matt's boyfriend."

"Anyway, doc, can we get on with it." Tom finished dressing while the doctor spoke.

"Sure. Here's the time-line Youngblood has set for you. For the next month, you are to be on crutches. I know you've been walking the halls for a little each day and that's fine. Just don't overdo it. He's scheduled a series of visits for follow-up care and if everything heals properly, you can wean yourself off the aids in three months."

"But my wrestling career is still over, right?" Tom asked

"Yes, and this is directly from his mouth. I am no expert in sports medicine..."

"If you were, would you agree?" The urge to get Mark back into the ring was rapidly consuming his waking hours, and some of his sleeping ones as well.

"I think it's best to err on the side of caution. If he thinks it is best if you don't return to the ring, then who am I to give you false hope."

Tom mentally noted to get a second opinion.

"Other than that, take the pain pills as prescribed. We'll reevaluate you monthly and maybe, in six months time, you'll be able to return to a normal life."

_I don't want a normal life. I want to get back in that ring._ Tom tried to make it seem like he accepted the prognosis, but all he could think of was how badly he wanted to get Mark in the ring. When that happened, and the word 'if' was not in this equation, Mark was gonna feel the same pain Tom had felt, accident or not.

"Anything else I should worry about?"

"I shouldn't have to tell you to keep the brace on at all times, except for when showering. If you notice any excessive swelling or discoloration, have it checked out immediately. If you'll just sign here, you can be out of here right away. I'll send for an orderly to wheel you down to the pharmacy for your prescription and your crutches."

Tom signed his release forms.

"Here's your prescription. An orderly will be right with you."

Tom finished dressing while he waited. It took a while to get his one sock and shoe on, the same problem he had the last time he fucked up his knee.

"Uh, Mister Hardy? Are you decent?"

The voice sounded familiar, but Tom shrugged. "Yeah."

The orderly in question looked a lot like Matt. In fact, it was Matt.

"Since when do you work here?" Tom laughed

"Since I found out they're releasing you. I offered to take you down myself." He looked considerably calmer than he had only a few minutes earlier.

Quickly throwing everything into his bag, Tom hopped over to the chair.

"Lemme help you." Matt grabbed Tom's arm and eased him into the seat.

"Thanks." He breathed loudly.

"Where's Jeff?" Matt quickly realized that he wasn't in the room.

"I sent him to get Skittles and the car. He's probably waiting for me."

Matt wheeled his brother to the pharmacy and got his drugs and his crutches for him.

"Matt, you really don't have to do all this. I'm not dead yet." When he saw that Matt was even willing to put down the rental on the crutches, Tom had to step in.

"You can pay me later. Jeff's probably gonna break ya with his Skittle expenses."

Jeff was waiting outside, and he was munching on Skittles.

"Look who I found." Matt sang out.

"Tommy... I was wond'rin' what had happened to ya." The red package soon disappeared into the pocket of his jeans.

"Doctor talks too much." Tom mock-grumbled.

"We go home now?" Jeff asked

"Finally. You're driving for the next while, so whenever you are ready."

Matt stood there, feeling totally alone for the first time since he and Randy had gotten together.

"You wanna come back to the hotel for dinner?" Jeff offered "Or are you staying here with Randy?"

"I thought he was getting outta here today as well." Tom worked his way into the car.

"There's been a setback." Matt tossed Tom's crutches across the back seat.

"A setback?" Tom furrowed his brow. "Nothing too serious, I hope."

Matt shrugged. "Just Randy bein' Randy." _If only it was that easy._

"Well, are you comin' or not?" Jeff demanded, quite anxious to get moving.

"Jeffro! I know it's not every day I let you drive my Viper, but that's no excuse to be rude to your brother." Tom barked

"Sorry." Jeff slunk down into the driver's seat.

"You don't have to stick up for me, it's okay." Matt responded "And, I'd love to have dinner with the two of you. Can you give me two minutes to tell Randy that I'll be back in the morning?"

"Take your time." Tom quickly answered before Jeff could get a word out. "We'll be right here."

Matt raced back inside.

"Tommers, why do ya keep treating me like a baby?" Jeff asked

_Memo to self, curb temper._ "Jeff, I'm sorry." Tom apologized _Memo again... stop apologizing so damn much!_ "Matt is going through as hard as time as we are and I guess I'm just empathizing a little more with him right now. It's nothing personal."

"I am thirty-one..."

"We had this conversation once before, did we not? I seem to recall you crying for your Bunny before it was all over, but I will try to be less of an asshole toward you from now on. Besides, you're just too cute for me to stay angry at for long." He leaned over and kissed Jeff deeply.

"Now where is Matt?" Once they broke their smooch, Jeff stared at the entrance. "Imma gettin' hungry."

"Patience, man. Relax, eat your Skittles, and he'll be out here before you know it."

...

"I'm goin' to dinner with Jeff and Tom. I'll be back either later tonight or first-thing in the mornin'."

"Fine." Randy said, refusing to even look at Matt.

"Randy, please... if this is about your Dad, we can work this out." Matt walked around the bed and knelt beside Randy, forcing him to look at him.

"My dad has disowned me... think what he'll do to you if you get involved." Randy answered

"I don't care. I love you... you are the only one I care about like that right now. I want you to know that I am there for you always, okay." Matt moved to kiss Randy on the forehead, hoping that he didn't reject his affections like he'd done before. To his relief, Randy allowed the contact.

"You're are going to be okay by yourself for a bit?" All Randy had to do was say no and Matt would've immediately brushed off Jeff and Tom, still waiting patiently for him.

"Go. You've been here almost as much as I have." Randy waved him away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you, Legend-killer." Matt kissed Randy again, this time on the mouth, and again Randy didn't cringe or pull away, although he did not return the sentiment. "Whatever it is we'll work through it. I promise."

...

Pulling into the parking lot of their hotel, Jeff and Tom were surprised to see a familiar face leaning against a wall, casually smoking a cigarette.

"Is that...?"

"I think so." Jeff parked the car nearby. Matt got out first, then helped Tom out.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna show up ever again." Tom leaned on the car, taking a moment to get his crutches under him.

"Sorry for goin' incognito, but until the shit storm dissipated, it was probably the best thing for me to do."

"I assume that means you have something to report?" Tom raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, but I'd rather not do it out here." Eric surveyed the parking area, as if he expected someone to jump out and attack. "Your room?"

"I guess it'll be dinner for four." Jeff shrugged "I's gonna call the restaurant and make it a table for four." Jeff skipped on ahead. "I'll see you upstairs."

"At the rate he moves, he's gonna change our reservation, be back upstairs, and raiding the mini-fridge before we even get up there." Personally, Tom thought he could make it at least as far as the elevator faster under his own power, but Matt had a determined look about him. One that said that if Tom tried to not use the crutches, he was going to have a serious problem and that problem was named Matthew Moore Hardy.

Tom was half-right. Jeff had managed to get their dinner plans changed and was waiting in the room for them, but he hadn't gotten a drink yet. Perhaps he wanted to hear what Eric had to say before he got shit-faced.

"I'll cut to the chase... there's good news and bad news."

"I hate it when there's a choice." Tom gingerly lay across the bed, stretching out his leg as much as he dared. "How 'bout the good news first."

"Uh, let me give ya the bad news first." Eric stated "Despite the overwhelming evidence, it looks like unless Matt's boyfriend decides to talk, that Evan and Jack will be back to making your lives a living hell very soon."

"Fuck that! I'll fuckin' kill them myself if they try anything!" Matt screamed

"It's okay, Matty." Jeff rubbed his brother's back for comfort.

"What's the good news, then?" Tom rolled onto his side and gazed upon Eric. "There better be some and don't tell me you saved money on your car insurance."

"Oh, there is, I think. That creepy lookin' guy with no eyebrows... what's his name again?"

"Kane." The other three replied all together.

"Well, from what I heard, they tried to skip out before the police could talk to them. Kane and the other guy dragged them both down to the ring, tied them to the ring ropes, and started beating on them." Eric stated "Unfortunately, some idiot thought it was part of the show and ordered the zebras to break it up before they could do a lot of damage."

"I still don't get why they'd tempt fate again. They got lucky the first time." Tom rolled onto his stomach and grimaced. "That wasn't good."

"The really scary thing is that they might get lucky again." Matt sighed "Randy's just been so distant since the attacks. He won't talk to me about it, he won't even talk to the hospital people so he they'll discharge him."

"But you know about the sexual assault, right?" Tom asked

"Yeah and Randy knows that I know." Matt answered

"I'm sure when the time is right, you'll be the first one he goes to." Jeff hugged Matt once more.

"Anything else?" Tom looked back at Eric, who seemed to be a little distracted by Matt and Jeff's display of emotion. He cleared his throat noisily, which seemed to un-distract Eric. So far, Eric hadn't told him anything that he didn't already know.

"Sorry I don't have anything better to tell you, but I can't get close to either of them right now. I don't even fuckin' know if they're in custody or not. Hopefully they are, but the way this has been going, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting."

If they only knew...


	11. Chrysanthemums

Chrysanthemums

"This is fuckin' ridiculous." Evan paced the ten foot by ten foot square room. "Explain to me again how the hell we ended up here?"

"A little something called being arrested for kidnapping, rape, extortion, and God know what else." Jack was lying across one of the metal benches that doubled for a bed. "How about you explain to me why the hell I listened to you in the first place?"

"Because you hate the Hardys just as much as I do." Evan answered, leaning on the metal bars.

"I'm starting to wonder if hating the Hardy's is worth all this shit. I've been arrested, again, I have a splitting headache, and all you succeeded in doing is pissing off a lotta people. What were you thinking, threatening Mark like that... or were you?" Tyler's patience with Evan was wearing very thin.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Evan stated

"So did driving the Titanic through an ice field at top speed." Jack retorted "We all know how that ended up."

"What are you sayin'?" Evan asked

"If there's any chance of getting a lesser sentence outta this, I'm throwin' you to the wolves. This was all your idea from day one, and I am not spending the..."

Evan jumped on Jack, swinging his fists wildly in the direction of his face. "You're not saying a Goddamn thing, you hear me! Not a Goddamn thing!"

Jack whimpered, his mouth trickling blood from where his lips had been pinched.

"We're in this together. If you fink me out, I'll see to it that you don't last ten minutes in prison. Prisoners don't like child molesters."

"But I didn't... you wouldn't dare!" Jack wiped some of the blood onto his sleeve.

"Try me Tyler... just fuckin' try me." The look in Evan's eyes convinced Jack that he would make good on his threats. "I've heard that Orton ain't talking to anyone... we'll be outta here soon and then we can finish this."

It was with a heavy heart that Tom returned to Smackdown the following week. Not return in the sense of going back into the ring, but Creative had a weird idea to suddenly drop his angle with Mark and insert him into the Princess Straightedge/Luke Gallows work.

The last thing Tom wanted to do was go anywhere near a WWE event, but with Jeff officially finished, bills starting to pile up, and according to Jeff not enough money in his account to buy a bag of his favorite snack, Tom had little choice to but to go back.

Halfway between the entrance and the locker room, Tom was intercepted by Stephanie. With Vince fertilizer, and Linda and Shane publicly pursuing other ventures, the Billion-dollar princess was getting more and more involved behind the scenes, even though she was still officially the head of the sales department.

"I know having to come back like this isn't fun..."

"How'd ya figure?" Tom said, transferring his body weight to his good leg and trying to look like he wasn't in as much pain as he was.

"Can you come by the office once you're done your in-ring? I wanna discuss a few things with you."

"Sure, I guess. This is has something to do with my contract, right?"

Steph's body language said yes even though her mouth wasn't as direct. "Just stop by, okay." With that, she turned and walked in the other direction.

"Yes, ma'am." Tom saluted a la John Cena.

"Excuse me." Tom grabbed a P.A. "How long until Phil does his shtick?"

"You got about a half-hour."

"Perfect. Can you run out and buy me a mickey of whiskey and a pack of smokes?"

"I guess."

"Here's fifty. If that ain't enough, let me know." Tom handed a bill over.

"Okay, but can I ask why?"

"This is probably going to be my last on-camera appearance for a while so I'm going out with a bang instead of a thunk."

A nod. Despite Phil amping it up ten notches for the crowd, backstage he was starting to get just as preachy about the merits of Straightedge and it was starting to annoy some members of the production staff as well as the talent. He waited patiently for the production assistant's return while Phil, with Luke (the rumors about those two were enough to make his dick stand up), entered the ring and started their spiel.

"Despite the total lack of concern for your own well-being, I am here to save you all. Save you all from yourselves and your abuses of alcohol, cigarettes, prescription drugs. Straightedge is the only thing that can prevent all of you from becoming just another statistic..."

Backstage, Tom prayed that his booze would arrive soon enough. This promo might be more believable with a few shots in his system.

"Can you believe this guy?"

"Matt?" Tom turned at the friendly voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I dunno." He looked like he was suffering from a lack of sleep. "I got a call this morning that Creative wanted me to do a run-in."

"That's what I am doing." Tom turned around. "How's Randy?"

"Still in the hospital. Still won't talk to anyone except me, and just barely." Matt scraped his left heel against his right shin.

"Mr. Hardy...?"

"Yes?" Both Matt and Tom responded.

"I was supposed to deliver this to one of you, I guess." Looking from one Hardy to the other, the grip was clearly confused.

"Booze and smokes? That's for me." Tom took the brown paper bag. The flask went into the side pocket of his jacket, the cigarettes into his jeans. "I'll see ya out there Matty."

Punk was still going on, riling up half the audience and putting the other half to sleep.

"...you have two choices. Embrace the straightedge lifestyle or continue on the path of decadence and become just like your Charismatic Enabler..."

"Nobody talks about my husband that way." Tom growled

The opening riff of "Go Insane" cut Phil off in mid-sentence. He was truly surprised at who was interrupting him.

"Well, if it isn't America's favorite couple. I was backstage and since your brainwashing seems to be working real well on all these people, I figured I better come out a put a stop to it."

"You're no better than each and every one of these people who chose to pollute..."

"Phil, shut up." Tom squinted. "You ran my br... husband out of the WWE because he chose to live his life the way he wanted to and not by some archaic principles that might have worked twenty years ago."

"He was a loser, a drug user..."

Tom tuned him out. He was craving a drink or a smoke or something. "Fascinating. Excuse me for a moment." He took the cigarettes from his jeans and lit one right in Punk's face. "Crave a man his indulgences."

"That is what I'm talking about. Putting that crap in your body..."

"Is my choice. Y'know, I used to like you. We used to have a lotta fun closing bars. Not once did I complain that you were the only one who wasn't drinking, and you were one of, if not the, best puking buddies around. But you changed, Phil. And I speak for a lot of the guys in the back, as well as probably everyone here. This new you sucks." Tom punctuated this by blowing a cloud of smoke at Phil and Luke.

"That is the difference between the rest of these addicts and me..."

"Is that we don't try to shove our lifestyles down other people's throats. Excuse me, but this whole conversation is leaving a bad taste in my mouth,"

The audience cheered loudly when they saw what Tom was taking out of his other pocket. He took a swig of the liquor, then a second.

"I'd offer your friend some, but it looks like you've done a real good job on him." Tom recapped the flask.

"Luke is an example of what can happen when you clear your mind..."

"You mean empty it. That boy hasn't had an original thought since he hooked up with you. Yes, I said hooked-up. Correct me if I'm wrong, and I'm sure you will, but screwing around isn't part of the lifestyle either."

"Yeah. So?"

"So how would you justify checking into the no-tell motel with Luke? I thought you were dating Amy... by the way, has she cheated on you yet?"

"I am Luke's savior." Phil growled "Thanks to me, he has licked his addictions..."

"From what I've heard, that's not all he's been licking..."

Luke stepped between Phil and Tom, grabbing the collar of his jacket.

"If you wanted a drink, all you had to do was ask nicely." In one fluid movement, Tom shattered the glass bottle over Luke's head, dousing him with the liquor. A mixture of blood and glass rained down to the canvas. Tom had but a second to admire his handiwork, and adjust his grip on his crutch before Phil stepped in.

"You think you're so cool, do ya?" Phil shouted, getting so close his beard tickled Tom's chin.

"Dude, you really need to fuckin' shave." Tom took one step back for every step Phil advanced.

"By the time I'm done with you, it'll be completely irrelevant what I need to do." Phil kicked one of Tom's crutches out of his hand. Thankfully, it was not the one supporting the better of his two legs.

_Okay, Matt, now would be a good fuckin' time._

The cheering of the fans told Tom that the cavalry had indeed arrived. Matt and his new friend R-Truth stormed the ring and started beating on Gallows and Punk. Tom stood off to the side, the grip on his crutch just so in case he was needed.

"Hold up, playas." Teddy Long interrupted. "I may still be on probation but this ain't the time for this. I'm making a tag-team match for later tonight. It will be Luke Gallows and CM Punk..."

A symphony of boos rained down on them. Punk nodded, like he was ready to do the deed right then.

"...versus the team of Matt Hardy..."

The fans cheered loudly. Matt also looked ready to go, as did R-Truth.

"...and his partner Tom Hardy!"

Truth, Matt, and Tom did double- and triple-takes.

"Just what the hell are you playing at?" Tom shouted

"I ain't playing. I haven't forgotten how you pulled the wool over my eyes when you ran ECW, so consider this a little payback." Teddy danced his way off the stage, leaving the five wrestlers to stare at each other. Tom was a little creeped out at Gallows' and Punk's expressions. Like lions about ready to feast on a gazelle.

"What the hell is he trying to prove? I'm not cleared to wrestle!" Panic was not something he did very often, but this time was the exception for Tom. "This ain't what I signed up for!"

"Relax, bro." Matt said "I'll run the match, you just stand in the corner."

"You got me bro, if ya need it!" Truth added

"See, Tom, nobody's gonna let either of those two jokers lay a finger on you." Matt pointed at their future opponents, now at the top of the stage, Punk with his head in his heads mocking his GTS finisher.

"Just one more turd to add to the heap." Tom shook his head wistfully. "Well, I guess I better go find out what the billion-dollar bitch wants... can you pass me my other crutch?"

...

"Glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Not like I had anything better to do tonight, other than get put into a match that I didn't exactly agree to." Tom stated "I assume this has something to do with the company being on the hook for my contract."

"In a way. I'm not sure what Creative was thinking, making you get in the ring, but..."

"Just wanted to let the fans see the future fade into the past?" Tom replied "Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do." Stephanie shuffled several papers on her desk. "I reviewed the contract you just signed and there is a clause in it that if you suffer a career-ending injury in the ring, we're on the hook for the entire amount you would have been paid, including bonuses and merchandise royalties, et cetera et cetera..."

"Standard fare." Tom replied. He hadn't bothered to read the fine print, so this was as much news to him as it was to Stephanie.

"However, I would like to make you an offer." Stephanie added

"Buyout?" Tom guessed

"Hardly. There's something about you, Tom. You have this ability to make people believe what you're saying, even when your talking in-character... persuasive, that's the word I am looking for." Steph folded her hands together and leaned forward. "I'd like you to work for our sales department while we wait to see how you heal."

"Sales? I haven't been in sales since I worked for 7-Eleven when I was in college." Tom answered

"I know your background, Hardy, and I also know that you have a family to support." Stephanie answered "With what I am proposing, you will be making pretty close to what your contract would have paid you. The only drawback is the job requires extensive travel, comparable to what you had been doing when you wrestled."

"Only difference being I won't have to worry about running my knee into the ring steps any more." Tom added "If I decide not to take this job, what will happen?"

"Then we'll put you on the next plane back to Chicago and you'll spend your time recuperating, curled up on your sofa watching "The Young and The Restless" with that pathetic stuffed Lizard you carry around with you!" Stephanie seemed insulted that Tom was even considering a refusal of her order.

"Hey... Lizard isn't pathetic! He's just... Lizard." A small part of Tom's brain pondered why they were arguing about the pathetic qualities of Lizard. (He's not!)

"I'm waiting."

"You actually want me to make a decision now?" Tom demanded

"I was kinda hoping this wouldn't be a tough one." Folding her arms across her ample cleavage, Stephanie waited for a reply. "I've been around the guys longer than you have, Jeff especially, and he doesn't impress me as the type who is able to save a lot of money."

Dammit, how'd she know...? Money was very tight. Jeff enjoyed spending his pay cheque as fast as he earned it, and now that there were no further ones from wrestling, excepting merchandising, Tom was the be all and the end all when it came to being the breadwinner of the family.

"I'll let you know after my match, is that alright?" Tom was positive that he was going to take the job, much as he despised the idea of working for Stephanie.

Steph nodded, although her eyes told a completely different story.

"Fine." Tom stepped out into the hall, where he was almost run over by Matt.

"There you are. I been lookin' all over for you. We're on next."

"My swan song." Tom stated

At gorilla, they were joined by R-Truth.

"Since this is, technically, a handicap match, I asked Ron if he'd watch our backs. Then, after the match, we're both gonna fuck him."

Tom laughed, then suddenly stopped.

"Whassup?" Truth chanted

Sometimes it was hard to tell when Matt was joking and when he was being deadly serious. This was one of those times. "This may be my last night... no sense getting my hopes up."

"Your hopes aren't the only thing we'll be getting up." Matt smirked

...

"This tag-team contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, a total combined weight of five hundred thirty-seven pounds, Luke Gallows and CM Punk..."

"Teddy Long made this match earlier tonight, and the big question is... will Tom Hardy be able to compete?" Matt Striker stated

"If the rumors are true, and this is Tom's last night, I'm sure he'll find a way." Todd Grisham answered

"After suffering that horrendous knee injury at the hands of The Undertaker during Hell in a Cell, I'm curious as to what he'll be able to do, if anything, during this match."

"And their opponents... accompanied by R-Truth, at a combined weight of four hundred eighty two pounds... Matt and Tom... the Hardyz!"

While R-Truth rapped their way to the ring, Matt and Tom had a whispered conversation. "Remember, let me run the match. Don't even think about getting in that ring... am I clear, big brother?"

"Yes, sir." Tom answered

"I don't care if we get our asses kicked, you stand there and keep out of the way."

"I heard you the first coupla times." Tom hobbled his way toward the ring. "I wish I hadn't wasted all that booze earlier."

"At least you got your smokes with ya." Matt jimmied his way up the steps. Tom rolled under the bottom ropes, and using them for leverage, pulled himself to his feet while Truth was finishing his "What's up?" routine.

The bell rang to begin the fight. True to his word, Matt started off against Gallows, who was wearing a stained bandage across his forehead, a little reminder of his last encounter with a man named Hardy... Tom Hardy.

As Matt started punching wildly at Luke, he thought of every comment directed at Jeff that had come from the two of them... it was almost as if they were taking credit for ending his wrestling career, instead of what had really happened at the hands of Bourne and Tyler. They were using Jeff well-documented problems as a a platform for their own propaganda.

"Nice strategy, Hardy." Punk yelled from his corner. "But just wait... by the time Luke is done with you, you'll be wishing that Tom was taking your place."

"Not Goddamn likely." Tom shouted from the opposite corner. "I got another bottle and it has your name on it. Tonight, you'll be the one changing teams."

A whip to the near ropes by Punk forced Tom to sidestep. Not because he was afraid of contacting Matt, and have the ref claim a tag, but because even the vibrations from the ropes was enough to send pain through his leg.

He looked down at Truth, the same thought going through both of their minds... 'this is gonna get messy'.

...

"I really wish you'd tell me what you were gonna do?" On the other side of the arena, Mark was engaged in a conversation with James.

"Marky, the less people who know, the better." James answered

"But you're gonna do something, right?" Mark queried

"What makes you think that?" James put on his innocent face.

"We've been together for what, almost twenty-eight years, right?" Mark stated "I know you that well, at least."

"It's been that long? I can remember when we were both just horny, psycho teens." James answered

"Two-thirds o' that still apply, but you still haven't answered my question. You are gonna do something."

James just chuckled and hung up the phone.

"It would be nice to get a straight answer from him for once." Mark stared at his phone and tucked it into his pocket. "Just once."

"It would be nice if Marky didn't get all worked up over nothing." James stared at his own phone. "Maybe he should learn to trust me a little more."

"Pfft! C'mon Dad, this is you we're talking about." Cooper looked over from where he had one eye on the television and the other now tuned to James.

"Your point being what?" James also turned his attention from the television.

"My point being that Mark is acting like I'm gonna go do something that'll get us all into a shitload of trouble." James replied "Fight, you fat slut, fight! He's an outta shape ex-cop... I think our family should go on Wilkos."

"And what exactly would that accomplish?" Cooper said "I don't think even Doctor-fucking-Phil would have a shot with us."

"Probably nothing, but I just wanna beat the shit outta Steve." James loved the shows, but he hated the fact that all the guests were spineless. If it were he, he'd take on Jerry, Steve, and anyone else who dared get in his way. "He's just a big pussy... look at him, "oh, get off my stage!"..." He was getting more irritated by the second.

"For fuck's sake Dad, jeez." Cooper grabbed the remote and quickly changed the channel over to the wrestling.

"What the hell, boy!" James reached for the control, but Cooper quickly pulled it away.

"If you're gonna go pyscho at someone on the TV, might as well be something we can both enjoy."

"You know Jeff don't do that shit anymore, right?" James said, watching an embarrassed flush go to his son's face.

"So?" Cooper answered

"Don't bullshit me son, I know you have a crush on him. Hell, even Connor knows and he ain't the smartest sheep in the flock." James answered "My room is right next to yours... I hear you moaning his name in your sleep."

"I do not!"

"Whatever, son!"

"Daddy, we're outta cookies!" Connor's whiny voice came from the kitchen.

"I've told you a hundred times... if you want cookies, get a job and buy them yourself!" James roared "I am not paying for your cookie addiction."

"Yeah." Cooper agreed. Anything to divert the attention away from himself. "Dad buys ten boxes and I'm lucky if I get one cookie."

"Daddy! Cooper's being mean!" Connor whined again.

"Cooper, if you're going to be mean to your brother, do it somewhere I don't have to hear it." James glared at his children

"Fine." Cooper threw the remote back at his father and stormed out of the living room. James heard the sounds of the argument, then "No... put me down!" from Connor, then the sounds of footsteps on the stairs.

"At least they're outta my hair for an hour." James smiled, knowing what their battles usually led to. He turned the volume a little higher, drowning out the screams he knew would be coming.

...

"NO!" Connor screeched at the top of his lungs. He began pounding his fists against Cooper's back. "Put me down! Cooper!"

Cooper ignored his younger brother. They had been doing this song and dance for a long time now. If he put Connor down, then it was going to be one of the biggest mistakes that he could possibly make in his life. Connor was a deadly little shit, despite having the mental and emotional capacity of someone less than half his actual age. "You always say I'm mean to you," he growled. "And I'm getting fucking tired of it. I didn't do anything to you today."

"You did too!"

"Oh really?" Cooper entered his room and kicked the door shut behind him. "What did I do to you that was so mean?"

"You...you...you...you wanted to eat my cookies!"

Cooper tossed Connor's ass on to the bed and glared at him. "I like cookies too you little bastard. And if you think I've been mean before, you haven't seen noth--"

Connor didn't let him finish. He jumped up and lunged at Cooper. Cooper managed to catch him, but he lost his balance immediately afterward and they both went crashing down to the ground.

"Meanie!" Connor yelled. "Meanie meanie meanie!"

_God, why do I keep putting up with him?_ Cooper asked himself as he and Connor rolled all along the floor. They were hitting and kicking and choking each other, knocking shit all over the place and probably breaking some of it in the process. Cooper was doing his best to restrain Connor but Connor wasn't having none of that. Connor kneed him between the legs and then tried to take off running. Without thinking, Cooper grabbed his ankle and yanked on it as hard as he could. Connor immediately tripped and fell, and he didn't get a chance to catch himself. That turned out to not be a good thing because he ended up smashing his face into an overturned chair.

"Oh shit!" Cooper exclaimed. He let go of Connor's ankle and crawled over to the younger man's side. "Connor! You okay?"

"Owies!" Connor whined. His voice was muffled because he had his hand over his mouth. "I got hurted!"

"Let me see," Cooper said. He tried to take Connor's hand away.

"No!"

"Come on, just let me see."

"Nuh uh! You hurted me! Imma tell Daddy!"

Cooper instantly went pale. He was going to get throttled if Connor opened his big fat mouth. "I'll buy you cookies!" he offered quickly.

That got Connor's attention. "Really?"

"Yup."

"You won't take any?"

"Nope."

"And you'll watch Beetlejuice with me afterwards?"

"Sure."

"And you'll color with me and not be a big baby like you say I am?"

Cooper sighed. Connor was pushing it, but the thought of James getting angry was enough to sacrifice his dignity. Dignity wouldn't do him any good if he was killed. "Yes. Now will you not tell Dad?"

Connor nodded. "Yup." He took his hand away from his mouth and licked his bloody lip. "I want Oreos."

"Fine," Cooper said with a sigh. He got up to his feet. "Let's go."

"Yay!" Connor kissed Cooper's cheek. "I love my big brother."

"For how long this time?"

"Until you're mean again."

"That's what I figured."

...

The noises from upstairs ceased suddenly, which surprised James. He'd figured the two of them were gonna fuck the other's brains out. He was even more surprised when Cooper suddenly ran downstairs and out the door.

"What the fuck?" James got out of his chair and walked to the window, just in time to see Cooper drive off on one of the bikes. He shrugged. "Boy musta run out of condoms or somethin'."

With Cooper gone, and the yelling shut up temporarily, James turned the volume down on the wrestling. Hearing CM Punk scream for his life, while erotic, was not what he wanted right then. Nor was his phone a welcome intrusion either, ringing suddenly and distracting him even more. He squinted at the readout... it was an unknown name.

"Whoever the fuck this is, you better hope I don't find you." He barked

"You won't." The voice on the other end replied. "But I'm sure there are some people you would like to."

"What are you talking about?"

"You want Bourne and Tyler outta the way? I know where you can find them. But it'll cost you."

James grinned. He was already starting to like the way this guy operated. "Just tell me when and where."

"Not now. Wrigley Field... midnight... alone."

"Who is this?" James demanded again. "If this is a joke..."

"Wrigley Field... midnight... alone." The voice repeated, then the line went dead.

James snapped his phone shut, squeezing it tightly in his hand.

"You better not be shitting me... or you will rest in peace." James laughed at his own joke then got up from his chair. Midnight was only six hours away and there was work to be done. Yes, much work to be done.


	12. Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy

"One, two, three!"

The arena exploded into cheers. Not only had Matt kept his promise and run the entire match for his team, but he'd surprised Luke with a Twist of Fate and gotten the pin.

"Excuse me..." A shrill familiar voice interrupted. "Excuse me."

"Now what?" Tom looked at Matt, who shrugged.

"As the consultant to Smackdown, I would like to announce a rule change." Vickie Guerrero made an appearance; being greeted with a chorus of boos, and other profane language. "A tag match may not conclude until all the participants have taken part in it."

"What are you sayin' Piggie-Lady?" Matt retorted

"Until Tom gets in the ring, this match will continue." Vickie announced "Referee, restart the match."

The fans, in no unclear terms, let her know what they thought of this.

"Sorry, but I have to." They had drawn Scott Armstrong for the match and he still had ill-feelings toward CM Punk. He was actually really glad that they had lost the match, but Vickie was technically his on-camera boss, so he had no choice.

"Give me the mic." Before the match could officially get under way, Tom addressed the capacity crowd. "For those of you who don't know, tonight is my farewell appearance. Thanks to an Undertaker who shall remain nameless, my knee is screwed beyond repair. Rather than slink off into the sunset, I decided to come back and say goodbye to the one fan I still have. I did not expect to, nor have any interest in, being thrown in the middle of a match. That being said, I apologize."

To everyone's shock, Tom hit Matt across the head with a crutch, breaking it and ending the match on a disqualification. Using his one surviving crutch, Tom hobbled to the back, just ahead of a very confused and angry Matt.

"Dude, I wish you'd a told me!" Matt corralled him in the locker room.

"Sorry, it just came to me. You know I couldn't do anything in the ring and I wasn't about to risk more injury if those two got their hands on me. I don't know what the hell is going on with this company, but this is ridiculous."

"I know, but did you have to screw up any chance of me gettin' pussy tonight?" Matt gently pressed against his temple, already viciously swollen and red.

"You??? Pussy???" Tom could barely hide his laughter. "Does Randy know???"

"Do I know what?"

Both Matt and Tom turned their heads at the familiar voice.

"Randy!" Matt squealed, rushing over to his lover and embracing him. Tom immediately turned his head when they started playing tonsil hockey. "I thought you weren't getting out until..."

"I had to get out, so I agreed to talk to someone." Randy sighed "I couldn't bear to be there any longer."

"I don't wanna interrupt what is obviously a you moment, but are we still having dinner later or do you want some alone time?" Tom interjected in as polite as fashion as possible.

"Uh... Randy?" Torn between seeing his brother socially for what might be the last time for a long time and time with his boyfriend, Matt looked to each man for help.

"I gotta go talk to Stephanie, anyway. You two figure it out. Don't worry about pissin' me off, 'coz I'm cool, either way." Tom hopped away, toward Stephanie's office, leaving Matt and Randy staring at each other.

"Matt, I was kinda hoping we could sit down and talk about stuff since I am actually in the mood to talk, but if you want to do dinner with Tom, that's fine with me." Randy said, although his posture indicated anything but.

"You do know that this was his last night in front of the camera 'cause of what Mark did to his knee, right?" Matt answered

"Yeah, but what about the two of us? I need you more than he does." Randy gulped. Matt could see the fear of rejection in his eyes.

Matt understood Randy's logic. He and Tom were close, but Tom had Jeff. Randy didn't and, if you took into account that Cowboy Bob was out of his son's life, he was really on his own.

"You're right. Lemme just tell him and then we'll go somewhere and talk."

A look of relief flashed across Randy's eyes and he had to use most of his willpower to stop himself from going to pieces on the spot.

"Five minutes."

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Randy replied

"And neither am I." Matt answered "Be right back."

Matt found his brother just leaving the office and quickly explained the situation. While a little disappointed, Tom understood completely where Matt's priorities were.

"I stand by what I said. It's not a problem. Randy needs you right now and I don't blame you for choosing to be with him right now. You're still my brother and I still love you, so don't worry about hurting me." Tom answered

"Thanks, bro. You don't know how much this means to me." Matt swept Tom into a hug.

"I've got a pretty good idea." Tom answered "Now go before Randy comes lookin' for ya."

"Love you!" Matt shouted as he ran back to where Randy still waited for him.

Tom sighed. "Now, I gotta explain this to Jeffro. This is gonna be fun."

...

James paced the hallway nervously, pausing only to punch a wall or throw something against one. He was confident that his decision to meet this unknown man was the right one. Now why he was waiting for Mark to come home so he could tell him was the part that was concerning him. All his life he'd done what he needed to do without worrying about approval from anyone, up till now.

"Your dead ass better be coming through that door soon, Marky-Mark." James growled "I dunno why I'm botherin' to tell you this, but it'd be nice if you were here so I could."

"Daddy daddy daddy..."

"What?" James glowered

"Cooper's being mean." Connor whined

"What now?" James demanded

"He keeps trying to tie me to the bed." Connor shrank behind his father as Cooper came down the stairs, a large coil of rope over his shoulder.

"And this is now a problem?" James asked

"I told you that if you got your blood on my Hollywood Undead shirt, I was gonna tie you to the bed and plow you." Cooper answered

"But that's not my blood. Tell him, dad!" Connor pleaded

"I spent two million dollars on a house for the two of you because I was sick of seeing you two acting like a pair of five year olds!" James yelled "Yet you spend more time here than I do! Maybe I should move!"

Connor and Cooper stopped in their tracks and looked at James. He saw fear in his kids' eyes... something he'd never seen before (at least not when they were dealing with him), and he was totally shocked.

"Trouble in paradise?" Mark chose this moment of them all to appear.

"Yay! Marky!" Connor rushed over and hugged Mark. Whether he was actually glad to see him, or just wanted the protection in case James went off again was debatable. "Daddy's being mean to me!"

"Oh he is?" Mark raised an eyebrow at James. "And you did nothing to cause this?"

"Nuh uh." Connor replied in his best-little-boy-in-the-world voice. "Cooper's the meanie."

"Sure... I'm always the bad guy... fuck you!" Cooper ran back up the stairs and slammed his door.

"Connor, could you leave Uncle Mark and me alone for a few minutes?"

Connor looked at them suspiciously. "Are you two gonna touch each other?"

Mark chuckled. James opened his mouth several times with nothing coming out. "We need to talk about something." Finally came out.

"You're gonna talk about me, aren't ya?"

"No, Connor, we have..."

"But Daddy..."

"Connor..."

"Daddy..."

"CONNOR!" Mark interrupted "Listen to your father!"

Connor pouted, looking like he was going to cry. He didn't like being talked to like that.

"But..."

"If you leave me and daddy alone until he tells me what obviously has his jockeys in a bunch, then I'll take you out for ice cream later, okay?" The sooner he found out what was on James' mind, the sooner he could figure out how he was going to distance himself from it, and he was not above bribery to do it.

"Yayyyyy!" Connor danced upstairs.

"This better be damn important." Mark dropped into the recliner.

"You remember when I said I was gonna take care of our little problem?" James dropped onto the sofa and stared directly at Mark, also not a good sign.

"Yeah... you mean you haven't done it yet?"

"I got a call today. He wouldn't say who he was, but he claims to know where thing one and thing two are." James answered

"So what's the problem?"

"He told me to meet him at the stadium at midnight." James answered

"And you need me to do what?" The rare time James told him about something before the shit hit the fan usually meant that he expected Mark to take a role in it. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little midnight fun?"

"I think you been dropped on your head one too many times." James reached for the remote control and soon the voice track to some nameless movie covered their voices. "I was hoping you'd wanna tag along and maybe, since you haven't done it for a while and if things do get a little freaky, join me in a kill."

It had been a while, that was for sure. The last one was a nameless street person they'd encountered the night they'd gone out to celebrate Mark's new WWE contract. He'd sure earned the gimmick of "The Undertaker" that night. Since then, as far as John Q. Public knew, he was a law-abiding citizen with a thing for motorcycles, beer, and leather.

"Why don't you take Cooper or Connor with you?" Mark asked.

"Please... the last thing I want is worrying about those two keeping quiet. I just wanna find out what this guy knows, and if it turns out to be a frame-up, have you snap his neck or something."

"I was hoping to get some sleep." Mark answered "I have a busy week comin' up. I got TV, three house shows, and a biker rally to make an appearance at."

"We have never have any fun together anymore!" James whined

"What do you call the marathon sex?" Mark demanded "Or is that not enough for ya?"

"Marky..."

Mark sighed. So much for sleep. "Cooper!" he yelled "We're goin' out!"

Several loud bangs came from the top of the stairs, followed by Cooper, shirtless and his jeans undone.

"Have fun." He waved at them, then went back into his bedroom.

Mark shook his head. "We shoulda told them that incest is bad."

"Coming from us?" James laughed "That's a good one, Marky! That'd fuck them up even more..."

"Is that possible?" Mark exhaled.

"If it were, I'm sure it would. Bikes?"

"Yeah." There was no getting out of it now. Unless he wanted to spend the rest of the evening trying not to think about what was going on upstairs, then tagging along was his best option. "If things go to hell, then at least one of us can get away cleanly." _Or we'll both end up in the fucking slammer._

...

Lying on the bed in Matt's hotel room, Randy listened while Matt ordered up room service. From the amount of food he was getting, it seemed like Matt was planning on making this his last meal. He felt truly lucky to have Matt in his life.

"I hope that's enough." Dropping his butt onto the corner of the bed, Matt gazed into Randy's eyes.

"Depends how many people you're inviting to the party." Randy answered

"Just two... you and me." Matt patted Randy's leg. "You wanted some alone time, so that's what you're gonna get, warts and all. We do have to talk, though."

"I know." Randy said "Probably gonna be doin' a lot o' that over the next few months."

"We've been over this before. No matter what happens, the Hardy family is on your side. You need anything, just ask."

"Could you talk to my Dad?" Randy answered

Matt frowned. "After how he treated both of us, that's probably not gonna happen. Not that I don't want to, I'm just afraid of what might happen."

"I understand." Randy clutched Cuddles to his chest.

Matt ran his tongue across the bottom of his upper teeth. _There's gotta be something someone can do..._ "Would you like me to talk to Tom and see if he'll help?"

"Tom? Are you sure? He's got his own problems right now."

"It won't hurt to ask."

"But... I didn't think Tom liked me much." Randy replied "I mean, he's always been kinda... distant with me."

"You ain't the easiest person to get close to, man." Matt scooted up on the bed so that he was laying next to Orton. "But Tom is our best chance if you want to have any sort of relationship with your Dad. He is really good at that kind of thing."

"I dunno..."

"Just think it over." Matt bounded out of the bed when Room Service knocked on the door.

Randy closed his eyes, trying to organize the chaos that was dominating his thoughts. He knew that he needed help, he needed closure, and he needed to move on. Could he do it on his own... even Randy didn't know the answer to that.

...

Tom delayed telling Jeff about his plans until he got home. If Jeff was going to overreact, and Tom had a good idea that is exactly what was going to happen, then he didn't want to argue over the phone.

Walking through the front door, he was greeted by two cars in the driveway. He recognized Jeff's Vette, but the other car was a total surprise.

"Jeffro, I'm home!" He announced

"Tommy!"

"Surprised to see me?" Tom tucked his crutches under his one arm so he could hug his husband with the other.

"Yayz! Shanny, Tommy's home!"

_So that's who owns the other car. I shoulda known..._

"Hey, Shan. How's the tat biz?"

"Great, man. You ever gonna come by and let me do ya?" Shannon asked

"You runnin' outta room on your own bod, are ya?" Tom had no interest in getting a tattoo. He was around enough of them in his daily life to not want to see another one every time he took off his own shirt. "Thanks, but unless you mean something else by 'let me do ya', I'll pass."

Jeff giggled. "We were just about to start thinking about what we were gonna do for dinner."

"Good." Tom answered "I am famished, but we need to talk."

"Talk?" Jeff gulped, looking nervously at Shannon.

"Uh-oh. What'd ya do, Jeffro?" Shannon smirked

"Actually, it's what I did." Tom answered "I took a new job." He quickly explained what had gone down between himself and Stephanie.

Jeff gave Tom that bug-eyed look he used when he was totally floored by something. "But I thought you were gonna recuperate at home... with me!" This news wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, obviously.

"I don't know why I said yes." A quick explanation that wouldn't escalate to a fight was what he needed, and the pounding in his temples was a sure sign that it wasn't coming fast enough. "Maybe it was the fact that we need the money coming in."

"But your contract was guaranteed. They have to pay ya." Jeff whined "Can't you call her back and say you've changed your mind?"

"The McMahons and the Hardy's aren't bff's to begin with. What do you think will happen if I go back on my word. No chance of me getting back to doing what I do best when I'm back to one hundred percent." Tom answered

"Tommy's got a point." Shannon interjected "You do need the money!"

"Shut up!" Jeff stormed across the room and threw himself onto the couch.

"Okay, fine, if that's the way you're gonna act, then whatever!" As fast as his good leg would allow, Tom retreated outside. Jeff and Shannon heard the sound of his car drive off.

Shannon stared at Jeff. "Jeff..."

"Go away!"

"You don't mean that, bro." Shannon reached to mess Jeff's hair, but his arm was batted away.

"Okay, fine. Call me if you wanna do something when you calm the fuck down." Muttering incoherently, he also walked outta the house.

...

The food had done Randy a world of good. After days of hospital mush, of which Matt had his share, something that wasn't pureed was a welcome change.

"Were you legit?"

Matt turned from flicking through the television. "Legit about what?"

"Talking to Tom?" Randy chewed his bottom lip nervously.

"Dude... I'm sure he'd be more than willing to return the favor." Matt put his arm across Randy's shoulders and drew him close. "Do you wanna ask him yourself or would you like me to?"

"Would you?"

"I'll call him in the morning." Matt promised, pecking him on the cheek. "We're finally alone and I wanna just enjoy bein' here for a while."

Randy moaned when Matt's lips brushed across his earlobe. "Matt, I'm not..."

"You need someone to love you the way you need to be loved, not just used for pleasure. If you're not ready to trust me that way just yet, that's fine, but I think you need it." The look in Matt's eyes went straight to Randy's core, warming him.

After the abuse he'd received at the hands of Bourne and Tyler, the thoughts of any sexual activity repulsed him. This was one of the things the hospital wanted him to talk to their psychiatrist about.

"You need to pull a Jericho. Break down the walls, Randy." Matt was tempted to add an 'assclown' joke, but he thought better of it.

Any hesitation was immediately dispelled by the feeling of Matt's lips on his neck. "I'll try." He pulled Matt up to lock their lips together.

"That's all I ask." When they finally broke for air, Matt said what he hoped would finally start the healing process.

...

James paced. Not with nervousness, it was just fuckin' cold out. Mark had worn his leather coat and James was tempted to either beg for it or just rip it off his lover. He checked himself at the last minute. Either way, he reasoned, it would just end up in a fight.

A car pulled into the parking lot.

"That's my cue." Mark slunk back into the shadows where they'd parked their motorcycles, leaving James to his midnight rendez-vous.

"Can I..." Mark was outta sight before James, against his earlier mindset, could ask to at least borrow the jacket for the duration. "Fuck?"

Pulling up nearby, the car idled. James wondered if he was supposed to approach the car or what. _Fucker better not keep me waiting long or I will rip his head off as well._ James was close to making good on his threat when the car stopped and a long male figure stepped out.

"You James Lawson?" He demanded

"Who wants to know?" James barked

"I'll take that as a yes. My cousin asked me to deliver this to you." He held out a manila envelope.

James looked at both the envelope and the deliverer, still not trusting anything about this whole situation.

"Take it. It won't bite."

James snatched the envelope from his grasp. Without another word, the other man got back into his car and drove away.

"Well, that was easy." Mark stepped out of the shadows.

"Huh?" In the confusion, James had forgotten about Mark being there.

"You're hopeless, Lawson. Totally fuckin' hopeless. Are you gonna read that or wipe your ass with it?"

"Maybe I'll just shove it down your throat and watch you choke on it."

"When did we start talking about your cock?" Mark playfully grabbed for the envelope, but James jerked it out of his reach, replacing it with his face and giving Mark a very awkward half-kiss instead.

"We didn't. Now let's get the fuck outta here before my balls disappear completely." James headed for the bikes. Mark followed close behind, wondering if that meant he was going to be responsible for their reappearance once they got home.

_At least it'll give me something to do. Untl Punk shaves, I'm swearing off Smackdown._

...

The more he drove around, the more he realized that once more he'd misjudged what Jeff's reaction was going to be and probably should've said something before saying yes to Stephanie.

"Looks like I gotta bribe again." Tom grunted, _Jeff probably does this 'coz he knows I'll buy him something._

He pulled up in front of a mini-mall, hoping that one of the stores would have something. He found it in a small kiosk tucked into the back of the food court.

"If this doesn't make Jeff love me again, then nothing will." Tom smiled

Driving home, he kept a careful eye on the present, if it blew away, it was going to be hell to stop and pick it up. Shannon's car was still in the driveway when he got home.

"Either park in the garage or on the street." Tom muttered. He despised having to leave his Viper in the open. "Kids, whaddaya gonna do?"

He left the gift on a chair in the empty living room and went into the bedroom to change, expecting that Jeff and Shannon were in the den. He did not expect to find the two of them in the bedroom, Jeff naked, Shannon wearing only his BVD's, and involved in an act of oral sex.

"When the Future's away, the Enigma will play." Tom was not as angry as he thought he would be. In fact, he was kinda turned on by the scene.

"Tom, this was all his idea." Under all his colors, Shannon went pale.

"I'm sure it was." Tom replied "Jeff can be a horny little bugger sometimes."

To both of their surprise, Tom stepped behind Shannon and slid his underwear off. He gripped Shannon's semi-hard penis and gave it a few quick strokes. "Nice. I would suggest you get back to what you're doing or I'm going to feel like the cheater here." He spread the Reject's legs apart so he could slide his head between them. While Shannon began to suck Jeff again, Tom began his own sucking. Shannon was huge for his size, and it took several attempts before he could get into a position to deep throat him.

Shannon didn't know which was turning him on more, the cock in his mouth or the mouth on his cock. The more Tom sucked him, the faster he sucked Jeff, and the double stimulation was driving him over the edge in a big way.

Tom could sense a change in Shannon's dick as he sucked and he knew the end was near for the young Moore-on. A couple gentle squeezes of his ball sack and Shannon started to release, around the same time Jeff started to lose it.

"Shanny, Imma..." He gripped both sides of the bed, bucking his hips wildly as he entered the first throes of his climax.

Shannon gasped loudly as his own orgasm took control of him and, as he shot wildly into Tom's mouth, he took Jeff's load on his own tongue.

_Still eating Skittles. _Shannon thought, swallowing stream after stream of the thick fluid.

Eventually, they all collapsed on the bed.

"That was..." Jeff panted

"Incredible?" Tom finished, reaching into his wallet and removing a scrap of paper. "Three down, at least one to go."

"Huh?" Jeff half-opened his eyes to stare at Tom.

"I've done you, Matt, and in about two minutes, Shannon. I guess Shane's next."

"Shane?" Jeff sat up, looking suspiciously at Tom. "You tryin' ta do the entire THS crew?"

Tom just chuckled. "Flip over, both o' you. It's time for me to get what I want outta this relationship."

Jeff giggled. He knew what was going to happen, but Shannon looked like he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Uh, guys, I really should get goin'."

"You ain't goin nowhere, Moore." When Shannon didn't move fast enough, Tom forcibly flipped him onto his stomach, then pulled him by his ass until it was level with his own groin. He sucked on his index finger for a moment, then stuck it between Shannon's cheeks, probing for his pleasure spot.

Shannon instinctively clenched at the intrusion, but the moment Tom found his spot, he relaxed. A few more probes and Shannon felt himself getting aroused again. As much as he tried not to get hard, he couldn't stop the response to Tom's now two fingers inside him.

Once Tom saw that he was having the effect on Shannon he wanted, he withdrew his fingers, and reached around Shannon to grab Jeff by the hips and back him up until the head of Shannon's cock was against Jeff's entrance. He placed his own cock at Shannon's entrance and, while holding Jeff's hips, thrust into Shannon. The force propelled Shannon forward, penetrating Jeff's ass at the same time.

"Unghhhh!" Jeff groaned, reflexively clenching around Shannon's girth. Shannon echoed Jeff's 'words' with a similar groan. Tom just pulled back, chuckled to himself again, then thrust forward once more. He kept up a slow pace; with each thrust forward, he entered Shannon, who entered Jeff, who was soon thrashing about on the bed again.

Shannon held onto Jeff's back for life. He was fearful of what might happen if he fell off. He was already stuffing Jeff as much as he dared and didn't want to hurt either of them with a badly-angled thrust.

"By the way." Tom's voice was becoming a little heavier. "You're not allowed to cum..." He emphasized with a particularly vicious thrust that almost sent both Shannon and Jeff crashing to the mattress.

"B-b-but..." Shannon stammered, already feeling his second orgasm approach. "if you keep... I mean... fuck..."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Do you always interrupt your partner during sex?" His own breathing was getting heavier and more raspy with each stroke. "What I was... going to... say is you're... oh fuck... not allowed... to... cum until... yesss... I... finish."

"What about me?" Jeff whined "Imma hard too."

"Whatever..." Tom quickened his pace, bouncing off Shannon's prostate rapidly. He tried to prolong it as long as he could, enjoying the tightness of Shannon's body squeezing his cock. Compared to Shannon, fucking Jeff was like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. With a loud roar, he came, filling him completely with his seed, some of it trickling out and down onto the bed.

The feeling of Tom cumming inside him was enough to push Shannon into ecstasy and he filled Jeff with his own load almost immediately, which, and thanks to a few quick strokes from his hand, made Jeff also shoot.

None of them spoke for several minutes afterward. They all collapsed onto the bed, reeking of sex and sweat, and flushed from head to toe.

Looking over at Jeff, who was cuddled up with his arms wrapped around Shannon and his legs wrapped around his own lower body, Tom remembered what had indirectly caused this.

"By the way, I'm still taking that job and there's a present in the living room." He smiled, then dozed off.


	13. Ficus

"Lawson, if you're gonna keep pacing, then I am gonna go find some better company." Mark complained

James stopped long enough to give Mark a dirty look, but before Mark could reply to that, he went back to his aimless wandering.

"I don't see why you even care." Mark shut off the TV. It was bad enough being stuck in the house with James at the best of times, but being alone when he was in his 'something's annoying me so I am going to annoy the shit out of everyone else' mood was ten times worse. Add to that James' refusal to actually tell Mark what was bothering him, and the bar seemed like a very good alternative.

"You wouldn't." James responded, dropping onto the sofa hard enough to crack one of the supports.

"And I won't until you tell me, Mr. Grump Ass." Mark lunged out of the chair, hearing a loud snap. He thought it was his bones until he heard James curse loudly.

"I told you not to jump on the furniture." He stifled a laugh. The couch had collapsed underneath James.

"Fuck you, Marky." James got to his feet, scowling at the ruined couch. Kicking it disgustedly, he walked into the hallway and grabbed a jacket. "Let's go."

"Go? Where?" Mark asked

"Wherever it was you were going."

"When I said I was going to find some better company, the implication was that you would stay here."

"Why?" James asked

"Because... oh screw it, get the bikes and let's go." Arguing further was useless and Mark knew it. When James decided he wanted to go somewhere, little things like whether or not he was welcome made no difference. Maybe a few drinks would loosen James up and he'd tell Mark just what was pissing him off.

...

"Awww.... it's so cute... Thank-you baby!" Jeff alternated peppering Tom's face, and the face of his new puppy, with kisses.

"Hopefully, this will stop you from being lonely when I'm on the road." Tom answered "I meant what I said earlier. I am taking the job."

"But..." Jeff pouted

"I promise I'll come home as often as I can." Tom knelt as best he could and took Jeff's hand in his own. "Jeffers, please. I need to do this."

"Oh....kay. Promise me if it doesn't work out, you'll quit." Both Jeff and his new puppy, soon to be named Lizzie, stared at Tom.

"It's a deal. I just gotta fire off a couple emails and then I'll take you and Shanny out to dinner if you want."

"I love you." Tom got peppered with kisses from Jeff and licks from Lizzie.

"I know." Not wanting to get overly intimate with Shannon standing right there, Tom quickly ended the necking. "Now if you'll excuse me." Tom sat at his computer. "You don't happen to know Adam's email address, do ya?"

"I already sent him a congratulations on winning the Rumble... from both of us." Jeff giggled

"That was nice of you. I'm still gonna send him a little note." Tom shrugged, surprised. Usually he had to remind Jeff to send thank-yous and congratulatory notes. Rarely did Jeff beat Tom to the punch. "Be ready in half an hour."

Tom fired off the two emails and was just about to sign off when his IM kicked in. It was Mark.

Deadmanwalkin: Tom?

Hardyno3: What's up, 'Taker?

Deadmanwalkin: ???

Hardyno3: This is Mark, right?

Deadmanwalkin: Actually, It's James.

Hardyno3: James??? :-l

Deadmanwalkin: Mark's guy...

Hardyno3: Oh, that James... what the fuck do you want and does Marky know you're using his IM?

Deadmanwalkin: Yeah... motherfucker's sitting right beside me.

Hardyno3: So?

Deadmanwalkin: ???

Hardyno3: You never answered my first question... wtf do you want?

Deadmanwalkin: I dunno y I 'm talkin' to ya anyway.

Hardyno3: Just spit it out. I ain't got all night!!!

Deadmanwalkin: It's like this. Bourne and Tyler are at it again... I think...

Hardyno3: You think? WTF does that mean???

Deadmanwalkin: Some guy called me and said he knew where they were.

Hardyno3: So? If you're gonna deal with them yourself, why tell me?

Deadmanwalkin: Dunno. Mark thought you should know.

Hardyno3: Y isn't he telling me?

Deadmanwalkin: 'Coz he thinks you still hate him.

Hardyno3: My feelings are irrelevant. Put him on.

Deadmanwalkin: Hey, kid...

Hardyno3: Well?

Deadmanwalkin: If my typing sux, it's coz I'm drunk. Like James said, some guy called and wanted us to meet.

Hardyno3: Keep it short, I'm goin' out in 5.

Deadmanwalkin: We got instructions to meet again at this club called the Wolfepack. We're there now.

Hardyno3: And what... u think it's a trap?

Deadmanwalkin: If it was, so? Since this involves u, I just thought you'd wanna know. I know you hate me, but...

Hardyno3: Mark, I dunno what Jeff told you, but I don't hate you. Do what you gotta do, man.

Deadmanwalkin: You don't... ???

Hardyno3: I gotta get gone. Jeff's waiting.

Deadmanwalkin: Thx. Deadmanwalkin is offline

...

Mark turned to James, a grin on his face. "He doesn't hate me." He sighed

"If I were that fucker, I'd hunt you down." James answered, focusing more on his beer than his lover.

"Whatever." Mark raised his bottle to his mouth and found that it was empty. "Shit!"

"Slow the fuck down." James hissed "If things go to shit, I don't wanna fight for the both of us." James thought he could take on the security goons, but he didn't want to press his luck. He'd counted at least twelve of them in the main club and three more in the little cubbyhole they'd been escorted to.

"You can handle them." Mark slurred, rubbing James leg. "My big bad psycho."

"We're not here to cause a scene." Those were words James never expected to use in his lifetime. "We have one goal tonight..."

"To get completely shitfaced?" Mark asked hopefully.

"We have two goals tonight." James corrected himself. "That, and to get information. I swear, if this is another meet me someplace else crap, they're gonna wish they were dead... oh wait, they're gonna be... never mind."

James laughed. An evil laugh, but a comforting one at that. Despite the fights, the arguments, and the fact that James' kids didn't seem to like him, it was times like this that made Mark realize why he was so deeply in love with this man. Now, if only his beer wasn't empty.

...

"Sorry I took so long." Tom trod into the living room. Jeff and Shannon were rolling on the floor and Lizzie was licking them both.

"S'okay... Lizzie loves me."

Lizzie barked as if to agree, then rolled over to allow Jeff to rub her tummy.

"Are we ready to go?" If Jeff asked, Tom would tell him why he'd taken so long, but he really hoped he didn't. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd forgotten to send his second email: the one to Stephanie asking her when she wanted him to officially start and to send him his travel itinerary.

"Yup." Jeff stood up and that's when Tom's cell rang.

"Ugh..." Tom expected it to be Stephanie, or someone else from sales. It wasn't.

"Who is it?" Jeff asked

"Matt." Tom replied "I'll keep it short. You two get the car ready... we'll take my Viper... here." Tom threw his keys at Jeff. "You're driving."

Jeff almost dropped them. Tom letting him drive? That was unheard of. At first Jeff thought Tom was fooling with him, until he saw his husband limp back into the bedroom to take Matt's call. When he had his crutches, his leg was fine, but putting unsupported pressure wasn't.

"Hey, man... what can I do for my favorite brother-in-law?" Tom dropped onto the bed, grimacing when his foot hit the floor, and the shock went straight to his knee.

"I'm your only brother-in-law." Matt stated

"That's why you're my fave." Tom snickered "Is this a social call or...?"

"Can you run some interference for me?" Matt asked

"What kind of interference?" Tom responded "I'm not getting back in the ring, if that's what you're asking."

"No! I would never!" Matt shouted

"Okay, okay, already." Tom answered "Just calm down and tell me exactly what you'd like me to do."

"It's not me, it's Randy." Matt replied

"How's he doin'?"

"It could be better. The only way he was able to come home is that he promised to talk to a counselor." Matt responded

"You want that counselor to be me? Incredible." Tom muttered "I don't think that's such a good idea, bro. I'm too close to everyone."

"Not Randy... his father." Matt answered "You know what happened, right?"

"Sorta."

"Would you talk to him for us, please?" Matt begged

"Are you sure I'm the right person for this? What about Randy's mom?"

"Uhm..."

"Let me talk to Orton, okay?"

"Okay."

Tom quickly walked back into the living room.

"You almost done?" Jeff tapped his foot impatiently.

Tom exhaled loudly. "I wish. Why don't you go out and pick up some dog food and treats and stuff for Lizzie and by the time you come back, I'll be ready to go." He fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. "Here's a hundred. That should be enough."

"Let's go." Matt, Shannon, and Lizzie walked out to Tom's car.

"Make sure she doesn't poop on my upholstery." Tom shouted after them. "Randy, you there?"

"Yeah. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."

"Randy, can you answer me one question... why me? Why not your mother or..."

"You're the only one I can trust. You know what I'm going through." Randy's voice cracked and Tom could visualize him barely holding on.

"But won't they have a problem with me? I mean, I married my brother, for fuck's sake." It was a valid question on Tom's part and hopefully Randy would have a good answer.

"He doesn't know. Matt's told me you have a degree in psych. I'd really rather have him talk to someone I know than a stranger."

Tom stared at the ceiling, softly breathing through his nose. He really wished there was a way he could put Randy down easily, but he couldn't and that was the problem.

"And you want me to arrange this as well, I assume?"

"Well..."

"Obviously, since he won't talk to you, right? I will call you tomorrow and let you know. If he refuses to meet with me, then you'll have to find another way, okay?" Part of Tom was praying that the Cowboy would refuse. "That's the best I can do."

"Thank-you."

"I"ll talk to you tomorrow, Legend-Killer.... Randy...?"

"Yeah?"

_Good, he hasn't hung up. _"Don't worry about it. We'll get through this, one way or another... okay?"

...

Randy looked at Matt, his eyes shiny. "He said he'll try."

"That's more than I expected, really." Matt answered "I thought he'd say no."

"He didn't, thank God." Randy wiped his forearm across his face. "The first time I met him, it was legit heat, but now I'm really happy that he's in our lives."

"Me too." Matt hesitantly hugged Randy. There were times he wanted the affection and other times he got downright aggressive in his refusal. Matt hoped for the former option, but was always ready for the latter. "Tom's a real good talker. I'm sure he'll find a way to convince Bob to at least meet with us."

_But what happens then? _

...

"Are you sure I can't have another beer?" Mark whined for the fifth time. For a grown man, he sure acted childish when he was denied something.

"Not until we meet whoever it is we're meeting." James answered "Then you can drink the whole damn Pacific Ocean for all I care."

"Which one of you is James Lawson?"

"Who fuckin' wants to know?" James barked

"Just shut up and listen."

James set his beer down and glared at messenger-boy. He looked to be about five foot nothing, one hundred pounds soaking wet, yet here he was acting like he had a set. James had to grip the table really hard to prevent himself from literally tearing this guy's head off.

"You're in enemy territory so I suggest you relax." James didn't know which pissed him off more... the way this guy was talking to him, or how cool he was doing it. "My cousin has Bourne and Tyler locked up. You wanna piece of them, you'll come back here tomorrow night. Alone."

"And if I decide not to?" James replied

"Those two aren't the only ones with dirt on you."

"What's in this for you? Obviously you don't have enough stroke, or you wouldn't be doing the dirty work." James noticed that the security had their eyes trained at their table and he was pretty sure that the bulges in their jackets weren't just for show.

"None of your fuckin' business. Tomorrow night... midnight... alone. My boys will show you the door."

"We've seen it." James sneered, normally an intimidation tactic, but this guy was having nothing of it.

"You know what I mean. Don't be late. If I ain't around, ask for Tim." Cockiness oozing from his body, he strutted back to his office.

"Let's go Mark. This place is starting to piss me off in a big way."

"Awwww..." Mark whined "But..."

"Marky, I'll get you some more beer on the way home." Normally it was James who did the whining. "Right now, the only thing I want to do is get outta here before shit happens."

"Shit always happens." Mark grabbed James' shoulder. "'Specially when I'm witcha."

"Since when do you complain... and how can you be drunk already? You only had... how many did you have?"

"This many." Mark waved both hands in front of James rapidly.

"Of all the times to be a fuckin' lightweight, it's now. Well c'mon, and try not to trip over your feet on the way out." James half-carried, half-dragged Mark to their cycles.

"Are you gonna... never mind." Before James could even ask if Mark was capable of driving home, the Deadman was gone.

"Dumbass. And he claims that I'm the irresponsible one."

...

The following morning, while Mark was sleeping off his buzz and James was trying to make time go faster, the Hardy household was also just coming to.

"Unghh..." Tom covered his face with a pillow.

"Time to get up already?" Jeff rolled over and blew on Tom's ear. "Didn't we just get home?"

Tom uncovered his eyes long enough to squint at the display on the clock radio. "Ten hours ago." He groaned

"Can't we stay in bed a little longer? Bunny says it's okay."

"Oh she does?" Tom rolled over to stare at the rabbit. "Sorry, but I don't answer to Bunny."

"Lizard agrees." Jeff added

"Oh, that's different." Tom fiddled with the alarm setting. "But I got a coupla calls to make so I can't stay in bed all day."

"Who?" Jeff half-crawled on top of Tom. The warmth from Jeff's body was comforting, particularly since during the night over a foot of snow had fallen and the heat in the house hadn't kicked on yet.

"I gotta talk to Steph, for one thing." Tom replied "I got so excited about dinner yesterday, I forgot to call her and get my travel schedule."

"Uh-huh... who else?"

"I promised Matt and Randy I'd talk to the Cowboy and see if there was any way he'd even agree to meet with his son." Tom shrugged "What time is it in St. Louis?"

"Same as here." Jeff answered

"Then it's too early." Tom was more than pleased to be able to put this off for a while. It would give him enough time to figure out if there was anything he could say as well as allowing last night's Chinese buffet to stop rolling around somewhere in the vicinity of his liver. "I'll call him later."

"Do you really think you're going to be able to talk some sense into the Cowboy?" Jeff asked, curling into a ball against Tom.

"Honestly, I think I'd have a better shot at teaching Bunny how to ride a motorcycle, but I'm willing to give it the old college try." His eyelids already feeling heavy, Tom soon drifted off.

Tom was in for two surprises when he finally decided to wake up for good. The first was that Stephanie hadn't set his itinerary yet, so he was a free man until Monday. The second was that Orton Senior agreed to meet with him, and with little persuasion.

"Imma comin' with ya." Jeff announced when Tom made his own announcement.

"Okay." Tom stated "Wouldn't you rather stay here though? I'm only goin' to be there one night, if that."

Jeff pouted "But I be bored without ya."

"Why don't you go play with Itchweeed or Shannon?" Tom suggested "And, before you start whining, it's not that I don't want you around..."

"Then whatty?" Jeff demanded

"It's..." Tom scratched his head, trying to find the right words to convey his reasoning without causing a tantrum. "Fuck it, I'm leaving in half an hour. If you're packed, you can come..."

"Yay!" Jeff scrambled under the bed, finally pulling out his travel-worn bag. "Imma bring one pair of socks... check... one thong... check... one toothbrush... check... and one bunny... check! Imma ready!"

"Then I guess we're off." Tom tossed the last of his travel items into his own bag, zipped it, then reached for his crutches. The knee was feeling better, but still nowhere close to where Tom felt comfortable walking unaided.

...

"Did they fall for it?"

"Yeah, Pat, they did." Tim stood in front of what was supposed to be his desk. "But I really don't like that you're makin' me close my club on what is one of my busiest nights to do this."

"And what have I told you about calling me Pat?" The other man sneered.

"Sorry... Patrick." Tim stared at his shoes. The one thing he did not want to do is show fear in front of his cousin. Patrick was known for his violent tendencies, tendencies that made James seem like a normal guy and showing fear was the best way to trigger them.

"Just leave everything up to me." Patrick put his feet up, leaving deliberate scuff marks on the desk's shiny surface.

"Don't worry, I will. The last thing I want is to be around when Lawson finds out it's a trap." Tim stated, not that he cared what happened. If Patrick died, it would make his life a hell of a lot easier.

"It's not a trap." Patrick answered

"Whatever." Shaking his head, Tim retreated into the safety of his club where he could drink himself unconscious and not have to think about why, of all the people in the world, he had to be related to this one.

...

_Why do I always have to be such a nice guy?_ Tom pulled up to a nice ranch-style bungalow on the edge of St. Louis. He stared at it, then looked back down at a scrap of paper on which he'd scribbled the address.

The butterflies in his stomach were not going away quickly enough for Tom's liking so he reached into the backseat for a can of beer. He'd stopped at the store on his way, planning to get really drunk with Jeff later. Jeff had wanted to sit on the convo with the Cowboy, but cooler heads prevailed and he had to make do with being dropped off at a local arcade with a fifty bucks.

One the can was empty, Tom quickly swigged the alcohol from his breath with some water and got out of the car. His stomach was still racing, so "plan B" was put into action.

_Just pretend you're trying out a promo on one of the guys... I'm surprised ole Bob even agreed to this meeting._..

Armed with just his wits, Tom boldly knocked on the front door. Tom blinked twice when it was answered by a lady that was a dead-ringer for his late mother. He quickly shook his head to get rid of his glazed look.

"Elaine?" He asked. He'd never met the matriarch of the Orton clan, but he assumed this was not Randy's sister.

She nodded. "You must be Tom. Come in."

Tom kicked off his shoes and looked around the hall. He felt out of place in the suit he'd worn. Jeans and a plaid shirt might have been better suited for the decor of the Orton household.

"Nice." He looked around the room. "Very, uh... rustic."

"Thank-you... I'm really glad you came. Bob's been so... distant lately."

"Distant? I was under the impression that he severed the relationship." Tom's mind was already racing. This might turn out to be easier than he'd expected.

"Bob's a proud man." Randy's mom took Tom into the kitchen. "And I know he still loves his son, he's just doesn't want to admit that he made a mistake."

"Hmmm." Tom replied "Sounds like someone else we both know."

"Like father, like son?"

"Exactly."

"Where is the Cowboy, anyway?" Tom looked around.

"In the den watching football. I'll let him know you've arrived."

"Any idea why he agreed to talk to me of all people? If he has a problem with Randy being into guys, then I should be the last person he wants to have anything to do with." This was getting more confusing the deeper into it Tom got.

Elaine shook her head. "I don't think it's the gay thing that bothers him... how do I explain this?"

Tom was starting to figure it out on his own. "It's just that it's Randy that's the problem."

"Could be." Elaine answered "I'll let you figure it out... you're the one with the degree in behavioral sciences, right?"

"Something like that." Tom shrugged "You said he was in the den?"

"This way." Elaine led Tom into that haven of male bonding, complete with pine-paneled walls, two deer heads over the fireplace, and an oak bar that took up most of one wall. "Robert... Tom Hardy's here."

"By God, send him in." The second Tom stepped through the door-frame, his hand was grabbed in the huge paw of Bob Orton. This was definitely not the reception he was expecting.

"Good to finally meet you, sir." Tom wondered if he'd ever get his hand back the way it was being shaken.

"Sir? Call me Cowboy. Most people do."

"Okay, Cowboy, can I have my hand back?"

"Oh, sorry." Tom's hand was freed, but he was clapped on the back hard enough to make him stagger forward.

"I guess you know why I'm here." Tom regained his balance quickly, no thanks to almost tripping over the carpet.

The jovial expression left the Cowboy's face. _Here we go..._

"I'm not here to preach or be hypocritical. Hell, I'm not even here to tell you that you're wrong because it's not my place..."

"Then why are you here?" Orton was back to the self that had stormed out of his son's hospital room.

"Good question." Tom thought he had prepared for every question, comment, or rude remark that Cowboy Bob might say, but this one stopped him dead.

"Well...?"

"Honestly, if it were anyone else, I'd have said no in a second. But you gotta understand my position. Matt loves Randy almost as much as two people can and the fact that Randy's hurting, means that Matt is hurting and I guess that means that big brother has to make everything right." Tom hoped it sounded halfway believable to the Cowboy, because it sure didn't to him.

"You expect me to believe that?" Thankfully, Orton didn't wear his trademark cast any more because Tom had visions of being knocked unconscious by it.

"What the hell do you want me to say... that I think you're being a stubborn jackass who is willing to lose a son because he can't accept the fact that he wants to be happy with a guy?" While Tom had planned to approach this confrontation in a similar manner to if he was in a WWE ring, he didn't think it would degenerate this quickly. "I think you should be happy that Randy has someone. After all he's been through... you know what he's been through, right?"

"Yeah."

"If you're looking to take your anger out on someone, don't make that someone Randy." Tom barked "If anyone should take the blame for this, it sure as hell ain't your son."

"But..."

"I'm sure you didn't stick around long enough to hear the whole story, but the two men who kidnapped Randy... were one-time love interests of me and Jeff." Now Tom was definitely keeping one eye peeled. "They were trying to get back at the two of us and Randy just got caught in the middle."

Tom figured that was as close to the truth as he was going to come with Cowboy Bob. The fact that Matt and Randy had actually hooked up earlier wasn't going to help anything, so Tom conveniently left that out.

"All I agreed to do was come here and see if you'd agree to meet with Matt and Randy sometime and see if there is any way to repair your relationship. The ball's in your court, Mr. Orton. I'll see myself out."

By the expression on Bob's face, Tom thought that maybe at least part of what he'd said had gotten through to him, but he wasn't about to stick around long enough to find out.

"Nice meeting you." He saluted Elaine as he passed her in the kitchen. "Maybe we can do this again under nicer circumstances." Just what those circumstances would be, he could only hope they'd be a little less angsty.

From the den, the Cowboy waited until he heard Tom's car drive away before picking up the phone. Randy's cell rang several times before going to voice-mail.

"Randy?" Bob's voice cracked. "It's yer pop... is there any way we can get together and talk? I think I've made a helluva mistake."


	14. Rhododendrons

_Sorry for the extreme delay in this, but a glaring continuity error forced me to rewrite the entire rest of the story._

Rhododendrons

"Marky, what time is it?" James whined

"About five minutes later than the last time you asked me!" Mark peered over a copy of the WWE magazine he'd stolen from Cooper's room. The cover story was an article on the most dominant brother teams in WWE history.

"Can you believe this?" Mark waved the magazine at James. "Glenn 'n I are number two."

"So?" James resumed pacing.

"Aren't you even curious who number one is?"

"Not really, unless you want me to kill them." James answered, peeking over Mark's shoulder. "The Hardys?"

"Yeah... how can they me more dominant than me and Kane?" Mark slammed the magazine down on the coffee table.

"I dunno Marky... they've held the tag titles how many times... seven? Eight?" James asked

"Nine." Mark replied

"And maybe the fact that they ARE actually brothers have something to do with it?" James sneered "What time is it?"

"Why don't you go buy a new couch instead of bothering me?" Mark reached for his reading again.

"Already did." James huffed

"You did? When the fuck did you manage that?" Mark asked

"I called Julie at Likansuk and had her do it." James answered "It should be arriving later today or tomorrow."

The doorbell rang.

"And that will be the pizza." James announced happily.

Mark rolled his eyes. Sometimes it was jut too frustrating to put into words how living with James really was. This was one of the those times. But at least the three extra-large pizzas piled high with his favorite toppings would make the next few hours bearable, providing he wasn't asked what time it was every two minutes.

...

The arcade was nearly deserted, so in less time than it took to ask if anyone had seen a multi-haired gamer, he had found his man.

"That was quick." Jeff didn't even look away from his game. Some shooting thing. "Bang bang baddies!"

"I got a way with words." Tom shrugged. He was actually surprised how little time it had taken, but if he could keep people thinking he could pull miracles out of his ass, the more stroke he could possess. "You wanna stay here or start driving back?"

"Lemme finish this game." Jeff blew up something that looked like a cross between a giant cockroach and Luke Gallows.

"Okay, I'll be out in the car." Tom stepped outside. Yet another weird day in the world of Tom Hardy and, to make it complete, it was looking like there was more snow in the forecast.

He had just climbed in and turned on the heat when his cell rang. By the ring, he knew it was Matt. _Good news travels fast._

"Future."

"What the hell did you do?" Matt shouted

"Are you asking that in a good way or a you're going to kick my ass way?" Tom held the phone six inches away from his ear just in case.

"Randy just got off the phone with his dad." Matt answered

"And... c'mon, if you're now pissed off with me, then spill it. I told you I would try, nothing more. I can only do so much..."

"Thank-you." Matt interrupted his brother. "We're meeting with him tomorrow. Hang on, Randy wants to talk to you."

"Hardy." To everyone else Randy sounded gruff, but Tom had known him long enough to know that was normal Orton.

"Hey, Viper... I hear you got some good news." Tom stated

"Yeah. You know it ain't my style to get real touchy-feely over stuff, stop laughing Matt, but I owe you big time." Randy answered "I don't know what you said to my dad, but I think things are going to work out."

"I hope so." Tom answered, seeing Jeff exit the arcade, puzzled. Tom waved him over and gave him a thumbs-up. "But as for owing big time, we'll call it even. Without you, I'd be in jail right now."

"But..."

"Orton, Jeff and I consider you family, and I'm sure Matt feels even stronger. We Hardys stick together." Tom stated, feeling a blast of cold air when Jeff climbed into the car. He shivered, then nuzzled against Tom, who held him close. "It will take your dad some time to get completely used to you and Matt..."

"I know. Matty just finished telling me that." Randy interrupted "Maybe we get together sometime and celebrate?"

"Work out your schedules and let us know. Jeff and I have all the time in the world right now." Jeff was pressed tightly against Tom, desperately trying to warm up. Tom flicked the heater on full with his free hand. "Call me after and let me know how things went, okay?"

"Yeah, bro." Randy replied

Tom blinked rapidly. "Bro? Did you just call me bro?"

"Uh... yeah?" Randy answered "Is that a problem 'coz you said we were like family and..."

"Stop rambling, Orton. Bro is fine." Tom answered, rolling his eyes at Jeff, who giggled nestling into the crook of Tom's shoulder. "We'll talk to you later."

Tom hung up. "Looks like big brother hasn't lost his touch. Now let's get outta here before my balls freeze." He put the car into reverse and began the drive back to Chicago.

"I can warm them up when I get home." Jeff purred "It's been a while."

"I'm counting on it." Tom sped up. The speed limit meant nothing right now.

...

"Are you sure about this?" Now it was Mark's turn to repeatedly ask the same question.

"Marky, this asshole said come alone. The day I can't handle one goon is the day I send Connor to do my dirty work!"

On cue, Connor and Snoopy ran into the living room, leaving a trail of dirty boot and paw prints on the carpet.

"Connor Michael Lawson, how many time have I told you to take your muddy boots off and wipe the dog's feet before coming inside?" James yelled

"Fifty-seven, daddy." Connor answered

"And you're probably going to have to tell him fifty-seven more." Mark muttered, staring at the brown splotches on the floor. _Looks like I get to spend the rest of the evening cleaning up after a Lawson anyway._

"No ice cream for the rest of the night. Now go to your room!"

"But daddy..."

"NOW!" James roared

"Meanie! I hate you!" Connor screamed and ran up the stairs, Snoopy at his heels. James heard the door slam.

"That was a little harsh, wasn't it?" Mark asked

"I coulda sent him to Cooper's room." James shrugged

"True." Mark answered "You got your cell phone?"

"Marky, nothing is going to happen." James answered "Those two think that they can threaten a member of my family and get away with it. Hiding behind some motherfucker that owns a club and his hired goons isn't going to help either."

"Just take the Goddamn phone." Mark held it out. "Why do you have to make a federal case out of everything?"

"'Cause I like to. It brings joy to my life." James answered

"I thought I brought joy to your life." Mark mumbled "Or do you just love me for my body?"

James laughed "Goddamn right. And once I come home, that body of yours is going to bring joy to mine over and over and over."

...

Randy pulled up to the old farmhouse and stared at it for several long moments before finally shutting the motor off. "Thanks for coming along." He said

"We're in this together, love." Matt scratched at his beard thoughtfully. "Do you want me to come inside with ya?"

Randy looked at Matt, then back at the house. "I gotta do this on my own." He said "Thanks, but I gotta take this slow with my dad."

"I'll wait here for you if you need me." Matt stuck a Pearl Jam CD into the car's player.

"Thanks." Randy kissed Matt and got out of the car.

"Good luck." Matt called after him.

Randy nodded, sprinting up to the front door, pausing when he got there. He looked back at Matt, who gave him a thumbs-up and that seemed to embolden Orton. He banged on the door right away before his case of limber-tail got any worse.

"Hi, mom..."

"He's in the den." Randy's mother looked nervous.

His own jitters returning, Randy followed. Matt waited anxiously, praying that their lives together wouldn't be ruined in the next few minutes.

...

James pulled into the parking lot of the Wolfepack, surprisingly deserted for a Friday night, but Patrick had bullied his cousin since they were younger to get what he wanted and this time was no exception.

He parked his bike in the deserted lot and strode to the door. Despite the lack of customers, two large men still guarded the entrance.

"He's waiting for you." One of them opened the door, while the other continued to stare straight ahead.

James glared at the man, hoping to intimidate him as he did anyone else, but he was the one to break eye contact first. "Whatever, fuckwads."

James stepped inside the almost pitch-black interior. _If the fucker thinks he is going to scare me, then boy will he be surprised._

"Show yourself, Asshole!" James bellowed. "I'm sick and tired of playing games! If you gotta problem with me, then come out here and try me!"

An eerie chuckle reverberated across the club's sound system. "Oh, I have a problem with you, but that's the fun part. I know who you are, but you don't know who I am."

_Like that matters. If I had a list of everybody who wanted to make a name for themselves at my expense..._

A spotlight over the dance floor suddenly went on, bathing James in a bright pale glow.

"You see, James Paul Lawson, right now you are at my mercy. I hold all the cards..."

_Obviously you've never played poker with me. Time to bluff._

A second spotlight switched on; pointed directly at James' face, it did nothing more than blind him and really piss James off. Instinctively, he reached for his knife.

"Get him boys!" That same voice broke into loud cackles just before the first blow landed on the back of his head.

"You're gonna have to do better than that." James retorted, his knife and fists starting to fly against the threat from all sides. _If this keeps up, Marky's gonna be able to say 'I told you so.' Fuck, I hate it when he can do that._

...

"You think the Cowboy's gonna come around?" Jeff nervously twiddled his fingers during the car ride home.

"I'm sure he will." Tom patted his brother's shoulder. "Deep down, Bob loves his son. It's just a matter of getting used to the idea that The Viper won't be giving him grandkids in the usual way."

"Sometimes I wonder how we ever lived without you Tommy." Jeff snuggled into Tom's neck.

"Beats the hell outta me, but you'd probably still be lusting after John Morrison, Matt and Randy wouldn't be in the mess they're in, we wouldn't have Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler making our lives a living hell every chance they get, Mark wouldn't... man, I sure do cause lotsa trouble, don't I?" Tom turned into the driveway of their home, where a Jeep Wrangler 4X4 was parked in the driveway.

"You expecting company?" Tom asked

"Nuh-uh." Jeff answered

Tom slid his Viper in beside the strange vehicle. "Whoever they are, they better learn to park in the street." He got out of the vehicle and approached the other car, banging rapidly on the window. "Whoever you are, you better move this thing before I call the cops..."

The door suddenly opened violently, sending Tom sprawling in the grass. Jeff watched, scared, as whomever opened the car got out and stood over Tom, who seemed more than a little stunned.

Thinking fast, Jeff slammed on the horn, hoping to distract whomever it was. He almost died when the unknown man turned his face toward him. It was John Morrison.

...

Sitting in the den with his father, Randy was brought back to the times as a kid when he'd be called in to discuss something with the Cowboy. Usually, it wasn't good news. A bad grade on a test, or something else related to his then-undiagnosed I. E. D. was usually the reason behind it, but it always ended the same... punishment followed by promises from Randy of better behavior.

_Awkward... _His mind repeated over and over as he waited for his Dad to say something, but apparently the Cowboy was waiting for Randy to start the conversation. Or was he?

"Where's Matt?"

"In the car." Randy replied

"Wouldn't it have been a good idea for him to be here? It does concern him, doesn't it?" Orton leaned back in the leather chair, his gaze never leaving Randy's face.

"Yeah, but right now he doesn't concern you." Randy answered, perhaps a little too sarcastically for his Dad's taste because Bob jumped right down his son's throat.

"How can you, of all people, sit there and say that it doesn't concern me..."

_Fuck this shit. _Randy started getting out of his chair.

"...I'm not done talking to you."

"I heard enough of this at the hospital." Randy retorted "I thought you said you made a mistake, but now I see that's all a lie. I'm thirty years old... I don't need you to approve my life and if you're not going to accept me for the way I am, then maybe it's best if we end this relationship right now."

Bob Orton cracked his knuckles together.

"The fans accept me, Matt's family accepts me, and most of all Matt loves me. If you can't see that, tough." Randy was out of his chair and almost to the door, preparing to walk out for good when the Cowboy finally spoke.

"You really love him?"

"I do."

"And you're happy with him?"

"I am."

You probably think I am being old-fashioned too, right?"

"You are." Randy kept his answers short. Less chance for his Dad to find some ammunition to use against him.

"And there's no changin' your mind about this?"

"Not a chance. Now may I go?"

"I guess," Bob waited until Randy was at the door before continuing. "but don't you think it might be a better idea to bring, I hope, my future son-in-law in so I can meet him?"

"What?" Randy couldn't believe his ears. "You mean that?"

"I know I'm old-fashioned, but in my day it was just common courtesy to bring the person you're dating in to meet the parents." Bob was smiling; always a good sign.

"I'll see if he wants to meet you." Randy responded "After what you said to me, he might not."

"If he loves you, he will." Bob settled back in his recliner.

_Just like being a kid again. _Randy jogged down to the car where Matt was tapping his fingers to the radio.

"That was fast! Everything still alright?" Matt switched off the tunes.

"I think so, but Dad's been usin' some of his Cowboy Bob ring psychology against me, He wants to talk to you too." Randy shrugged "If you don't want to, that's fine but..."

"If I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, I'll have to learn to make nice with the in-laws at some point." Matt yanked the keys from the ignition and followed Randy back into the house. "But you gotta tell me, does he still wear his cast?"

...

It was difficult for Tom's mind to process the fact that a supposedly dead man, and a man who'd almost caused all three Hardys to go to jail, was standing over him looking very much alive and very much pissed off.

"You son of a bitch!" Tom scrambled to his feet, not breaking his gaze from John's.

"I take it you're not happy to see me then!" John smirked, leaning against the front of the Jeep.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Tom was torn between pounding the piss out of Morrison or letting Jeff do it personally then both of them boogieing on his grave for a while.

"Lucky guess." John crossed his arms. "Aren't you gonna ask me what I want?"

"No." Tom answered "I'd rather you get your ass back in your car, get off my property and drive away. Maybe you'll do us all a favor and go off a cliff for real this time?"

"How would that look? 'Already dead wrestler drives off a cliff a second time'... that seems like overkill to me..." The rest of JoMo's explanation ended in a surprised YAWLP when Jeff jumped on him and threw him to the ground, hitting him in the head with his fists.

"You dead!" Jeff shouted "You made me almost go to jail... bad bad bad bad bad Morrison."

"Simmer down, Jeffro." Tom's tone seemed to contradict those words, however, but Jeff did obey his husband. "Maybe we should let Johnny try to talk his way out of this... the key word being try."

Jeff grumbled to himself, but he did get off Morrison. He stood safely next to Tommy, hands on hips, while John slowly scrambled to his feet.

"Well, we're waiting." Tom exhaled loudly, wanting nothing more than to have John Morrison once more out of his life. "And don't expect us to invite you in for coffee, 'coz it ain't gonna happen!"

John rubbed a small cut over his one eye. "If you really wanna answers, I'll tell you everything I can, but is there any way we can not do it out here... in the open." John's eyes were scanning. "I mean, I will if you want me to, but..."

"Morrison, you're such a drama queen." Tom rolled his eyes and headed back inside.

"I saw something I shouldn't have and I've been in protective custody ever since." John spilled out.

"Bullshit." Tom muttered "You gotta come up with something better than that."

"It's the God's honest truth, man." Morrison replied

"Then why did we," Tom pointed to himself and Jeff, "almost end up incarcerated? If you were in protective custody, why did the police make such a big thing out of it?"

"They had to. Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know, but not out here." John answered "Please?"

Tom looked over at Jeff, who shrugged. "Okay, but if this is some sort of set-up..."

"It isn't, I promise."

With more questions than answers, and not a lot of trust, going through Tom's mind, he walked inside, followed quickly by Jeff and John.

"Before we go any further Morrison." Tom folded his arms, glaring at the former Friday Night Delight. "Strip."

...

"Is that all you got?" James roared. Midway through the fight, the lights in the club had gone out, leaving James to fight in near-total darkness. This hadn't stopped him from beating up everyone that had dared attack him. The few that were still standing all had bumps and bruises on them, and those that weren't were either knocked out or currently bleeding to death on the dance floor of the club.

From one of the alcoves high above, Patrick stared down at the mess. Things weren't going as he'd originally hoped.

"Tim!" He shouted "You said these guys were the best!"

"They were." Tim whined from the corner. "How was I to know that one homicidal maniac could take out fifteen of my best guys?"

"That's the last time I let you take care of anything!" Patrick yelled, crossing over and slapping his cousin with enough force to be heard down below. "From now on, you just do what I tell you!"

"I still don't get why you want this guy so badly!" Tim cupped his swollen cheek.

Patrick just glared at his cousin, and that was enough to end the Q and A session. He stormed off, a new plan for dealing with James already starting to form in his mind.

From the floor below, James finished by kicking a few of the already-unconscious bodies, just for good measure. He was now absolutely sure that this had been a trap and was now seriously pissed off for having fallen for such an amateurish trick.

_If Marky says I told you so, there's gonna be more hell to pay._ James kicked open one of the doors and stormed out into the night.

From his new vantage point, Patrick watched him leave. _I may have miscalculated. Next time, I come prepared._

...

"Satisfied?" John demanded. He had stripped to the skin and his clothes had been meticulously searched by Tom. For what, John didn't know and wasn't about to ask.

"For now." Tom responded gruffly. He had been convinced that Morrison was wired by either the police, or some other agency, out to entrap Jeff for the attempted murder. Unless the mic was stuffed up John's ass, and there was no way Tom was going to do a cavity search (at least not while sober) so, for the moment, JoMo was on the up-and-up. "Put your fuckin' clothes on and start talking."

John reached for his underwear and slowly stepped into them. He did the same thing with each individual piece of clothing; not once did he remove his eyes from either Hardy brother.

"Stop Googling us." Tom barked "You said you'd tell us everything, so start talking."

John threw his shirt over his shoulders, but didn't button it right away. "You probably won't believe me, but this is what happened."

...

Despite asking Matt to come inside, the only thing Bob Orton had done was glare at him like he was an unwelcome insect that needed to be squashed. Being ogled like this was not very pleasant.

"Dad, you asked me to bring him in, now aren't you gonna say something?" Randy fidgeted nervously.

The Cowboy turned his head slightly to gaze at his son, then, again without saying a word, returned to staring at Matt.

"For fuck's sake, Dad, stop staring at him like you've never seen him before and say something." Randy slammed his fist into his open palm in frustration.

"This is a mistake." Matt whispered "I think we should..."

"You'll do no such thing. I am merely trying to figure out exactly what my son sees in you and honestly, I haven't got a clue." Bob finally spoke. "But I guess he sees something there, and I'm not gonna lose my boy 'coz I don't get it... you boys join me in a drink and maybe you can help the old man out?"

Randy looked at Matt, who shrugged.

"I guess so, sir." Matt answered

"Haven't you told that boyfriend of yours anything?"

"He hates it when people call him sir. It makes him feel old." Randy whispered in Matt's ear.

"Okay... Mr. Orton?"

"How about we start with Bob and take it from there... Elaine, can you bring us a few beers?"

"Right away, Bob." Elaine called from the other room.

"Siddown boys, we got some talkin' to do." For the first time since Matt had walked in, there was a smile on the Cowboy's face. Yes, it was a start.

...

If James had been in a bad mood when he left for the club, then he was in an absolute foul one when he came back home. Kicking the door off the hinges, he punched two holes in the wall, and poured himself a quadruple shot before Mark could even ask how things went. Not that he didn't have a damn good idea already.

"I guess I don't have to ask?" Mark hid a sneer behind his magazine.

"No, you fuckin' don't." James pounded down the liquor and immediately refilled his glass. "It was a fuckin' setup and don't you dare say I told you so."

"Like you expected any less." Mark replied, setting his magazine down. "You wanna tell me all the details before or after I take you upstairs and try to make you forget?"

"Fuck off, Marky. I ain't in the fuckin' mood." James really just wanted to get drunk,

"You said when you came home that this body of mine was going to bring joy to yours over and over and over and usually when you're this angry, my ass ends up sore for a week. For once, I am offering it to ya and you're refusing. Christ, what happened out there?" Mark was shocked, stunned, and more than a little bit surprised at his lover's refusal. It had to be more than just being attacked.

"I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna deal with it, and I just wanna be left alone to get really fuckin' drunk right now. I'm sorry if that ruins your plan to be nice, but..."

Mark was not one to take a no for answer, especially not this time. There had to be something really bothering his man.

"I'm not gonna pretend to figure out why you even bothered going out there. I know you barely know who Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler are, much less give two piles of shit about them. The James I know would've told them to go to the newspapers, the tabloids, and anyone else they wanted to with this story, then killed both of them in a very vicious way. This creeping around, meeting some guy who for all we know isn't involved, is not like you." Mark gently took the glass out of James hand. "So... what is going on?"

_I wish I knew. _James poured himself another. _Then I'd be doing what I do best.__  
_


	15. Hyacinths

**Here it is... the final chapter. I apologize for how long it took, but I just couldn't figure out how to finish it off with it both making sense and with what followed. (Read final note for clarification on that point.) I hope you like it!**

Looking at Jeff sitting across the room, Tom could tell exactly what was going through his husband's mind. It was pretty much the same thoughts that he'd had while listening to John Morrison's rambling tale.

"...protection since." John took a breath. "I hope that makes sense."

Tom rubbed his temples. "Let me get this straight... everything Jeff and I went through was all a set-up? The accident... the trial... Matt, Jeff, and I almost going to jail? All because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Fuck me!"

"Imma still confused." Jeff sounded unhappy.

"Don't worry Jeffers, you ain't the only one." Tom grumbled "Just one question... Bourne and Tyler: are they involved in this mess?"

"Up to their necks." Morrison answered "This guy Patrick who ran the club also runs a huge drug-smuggling operation. Those two work in his distribution ring."

"I was wondering why so many people had failed the wellness program since Evan arrived. It's starting to make sense." Tom reached for his beer. "So basically you witnessed something between the Patrick asswipe and our two exes that your shouldn't have. They, being the geniuses that they are (snigger, snigger), decided to get you out of the way, frame us for it, and solve all three of their problems at the same time."

"In a nutshell, yeah." Morrison answered

"And you came back...why?" Jeff asked "Tommers 'n I are together now."

"I figured that I owed both of you an explanation." John answered

"There's one other person that you should be apologizing to." Tom added

"Yeah... I dunno how Matty'll take it. Those asshole cops really laid into him." Jeff folded his legs underneath him.

"Maybe you could not tell him right away?" John asked, looking a little skittish.

"But won't he get suspicious if he sees you around?" Tom asked "Or is this one of those 'Hi, I'm sorry for screwing up your life, let me explain, and I'll disappear again right after.' visits?"

"Actually..." John looked out the window. "It is. If the people who are hiding me knew I was here, I'd be fucked."

Jeff looked at Tom, chewing his lip. "What if the bad mens find out you were here?"

"They won't." Morrison promised

"They better not." Tom growled "I am not going into hiding just because you felt the need to clear your conscience."

"Please, just don't tell anyone I was here. Not Matt, not Vince, nobody. Maybe later, I can make my peace with Matt, but..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tom waved dismissively. "I know. You just had to tell us."

"Look. I know this doesn't make up for it, but I had to choice. The Federales gave me a choice. Either fake my death and hope for the best or stay out in the open and know the worst was going to happen."

"I repeat... yeah, yeah, yeah." No good was going to come of having JoMo back in their lives, Tom was sure of that.

"I better go." John stood

"Might be a good idea." Sarcasm dripped from every word that came from Jeff's mouth and neither Tom nor Morrison was surprised. "It's probably not a good idea to be around when you don't know who your friends are."

Tom smirked. _Sounds like a threat Jeffro... I didn't know you had it in ya._

Neither man moved while John grabbed his jacket and shoes and exited. They continued to stare at each other long after the sound of his car engine had faded away.

"Imma tell Matty." Jeff announced, making a direct path for the telephone.

"While I don't necessarily agree with most of what just happened, I don't think that's such a good idea right now." Caution was not one of Tom's usual tactics, but it seemed to be the buzzword of the day.

"But..."Jeff sputtered "what if the..."

"Matt has enough problems right now with the Ortons. I really don't think it's a good idea to put this on his shoulders as well." Tom finished his beer. "Besides, I'd love to watch Matt beat the ever-loving shit out of John when he tries to explain himself."

"But..." Jeff repeated

"Who knows? If Morrison is dumb enough to want to come back to work after this shitstorm settles, Matt could turn this into a very lucrative feud... for all of us." Tom settled back in his chair. "Very lucrative indeed."

...

Matt wasn't exactly sure what had happened over the past hour. He'd gone from being responsible for causing a rift in Randy and Bob's relationship to being the guest of honor at a rapidly-growing family barbecue. Just trying to figure out exactly how this had happened was making his head spin, as was the half dozen beers he'd drunk since his arrival.

"Is there anyone else we should be inviting?" Orton senior asked.

Matt looked at Randy, unsure if he should say anything.

"Uh, dad..." Randy asked "what about..."

"Say no more, son." Bob had seen the look that passed between his son and his soon-to-be son-in-law. "It'd be a good idea if Matt does have someone he knows at this thing other than the two of us. What d'ya say, boy?"

"Sir?"

"Do you wanna call Jeff and, um, what's the other guy's name..."

"Tom." Randy answered

"...and see if they wanna join us?" Bob concluded "They're gonna be a part of the family one day, right?"

"Thank-you, sir." Matt nearly leaped to his feet in his urgency to get at his phone.

"What did I tell you about that?" Orton sounded gruff, but the smile on his face gave it away.

"Sorry, Bob." Matt hung his head. _Bob... Bob... must remember that... _

"That's better. Now y'all do what ya gotta do while my old bones visit the latrine. I'm not like you whippersnappers. I can't hold my liquor like I used ta." Bob shuffled off to the bathroom, leaving Randy and Matt to talk.

"That went a lot better than I expected." Randy said

"Yeah." With shaking fingers, Matt dialed Tom's home phone number.

"The hard part's over. No need to be nervous." Randy put his hands on Matt's to stop the trembling.

"But what if he finds out that my two brothers are married?" Matt whispered "If it's anything like what happened when you first came out... I don't think I could stand that."

"Shhh, love." Randy nuzzled against Matt's neck, nipping at his earlobe. "There's no sense in worrying about that shit now."

"But aren't you a little worried?" Matt arched his neck, giving Randy more freedom to explore that part of his body.

"There's no law that says our families have to like each other. Your brothers like me and hopefully after tomorrow, my family will just adore you, so who cares?" Randy began to stroke Matt's forearm.

A low cough stopped their intimacy.

"I'm still getting used to the idea of you two being together, so could you please not do it in my den?" Bob Orton stared at them. "You have a perfectly usable bedroom for that."

Once the laughter had subsided, Matt finished making his call, with less trembling hands.

...

"Do you believe him?" Tom asked

"Do you?" Jeff answered with his own question.

"Yes... and no." Tom stated "It makes some sense, but on the other hand it's a little too neat and tidy for me."

"That's what I was thinking." Jeff started to chew on his lip ring.

"I mean if Bourne and Tyler were seen by Jomo and they knew it, it's plausible, but I don't wanna give those two that kind of credit."

"Unless this Patrick guy told them to do it." Jeff continued to play with his ring.

"As far as I go, all Morrison has done is given us more questions than answers." Tom stretched "As if we didn't have enough to worry about already."

"Uhm..." Jeff stared at the floor.

"I know that 'uhm'." Tom crossed over and sat. "What's on your mind, snookums?"

"D'ya think we're gonna be in trouble too?"

"Don't sweat it." Tom was silent for a moment, which meant one of two thing was gonna happen. Either he was coming up with a carefully crafted plan or he was going to do something stupid. The result usually depended upon whom you asked.

"Tommers..." Jeff pouted "What are you gonna do?"

"Me? Absolutely nothing. Now Eric, on the other hand..." Tom chuckled and reached for his cell at the same time the land line rang.

"Imma get it." Jeff bounded into the kitchen.

Tom nodded while he placed the call. Eric did not answer, which didn't surprise Tom one bit. He tended to let his voice mail weed out all the unnecessary calls, as well as serving as a record in case someone decided to say something unwise. "Stryker... Tom Hardy. I'm assuming this line is secure..." He briefly summed up what he needed, leaving out that Morrison was the source of his info. That was one thing he'd tell him only in person. He hated JoMo, but wasn't willing to risk jail time if something happened to him.

He finished his message just before Jeff came back into the kitchen. His facial expression was completely unreadable to Tom, which kinda scared him.

"What'd he say?" Jeff asked

"I dunno. Got his voice mail." Tom shrugged "Who was that on the phone? Please tell me you didn't sign up for anything else!"

"Nuh-uh. It was Matty." Jeff answered

"Good news?" Tom asked

Jeff chewed on his lower lip, not answering directly.

"Bad news?"

Jeff continued to gnaw on his lip, still not answering.

"Indifferent news... c'mon Jeff, gimme a clue at least!"

"Imma... Matty said that we're invited to a barbeque at the Orton's tomorrow." Jeff answered

"Oh."

"And I said we'd be there." Jeff answered in his no-arguments-allowed tone of voice.

"Oh." Tom repeated "Why is our presence so expected?"

"Uhmz..." Jeff answered "Is that okay? You don't seem too thrilled."

"I'll be just fine. A couple aspirin and a beer and maybe today will start to make sense." Tom collapsed into a chair, mentally wishing that the current soap opera that was his life would soon end.

_I gotta go back to work... maybe there's something in Sales or Marketing available..._

...

"Reports out of the Chicago P.D. that a suspect who died in police custody late last night have been confirmed. Jack Tyler, being held on charges of kidnapping, was found dead in his holding cell early this morning. Police will not comment at the present time about a cause of death, nor of the status of the man being held with him; former World Wrestling Entertainment Superstar Matt Korklun also known as Evan Bourne. The office of the Chief of Police have said they will release a statement..."

Randy mentally tuned the rest of the anchorman's voice out, being too busy at the moment with trying to stop his hands from shaking.

"Matt!" He shouted

Matt ran into the den, followed close behind by Cowboy Bob.

"Randy, what's wrong?"

"Yeah, son. I heard ya all across the house."

Matt knelt beside his lover, softly rubbing the back of his hand as he begged him to tell what was wrong.

"Jack's dead." Was all he could say.

"What is he talking about? Son, are you sure he doesn't need some rest? Maybe it's just stress?" Bob asked Matt.

"I think it's more than that." Matt didn't understand what Randy's problem was. At least until the news repeated their top story. He'd been thinking about the canine Jack that died in Jeff's house fire.

Matt's eyes widened as the story unfolded a second time. "Shit... 'scuse my language. Jack Tyler is someone from our past."

"Was he the one responsible for..." Bob pointed to Randy, quaking uncontrollably.

"One of them." Matt answered

"Then I say the sonovabitch got exactly what he deserved." Bob huffed and crossed his arms. "Is my boy gonna be okay? I mean, if we have to we can postpone this little shindig of ours."

"No, no, no. I'll be fine." Randy was still shaking, but it looked like the worst part of things had passed. "Heaven forbid I ruin a chance for you to make your famous barbeque ribs."

"Oh, damn. I gotta call JR and see if he can ship me a case of that BBQ sauce. They can't keep the stuff on the shelf at all around here." Bob slapped his forehead. "You need anything, just holler."

"Thank-you."

"Come on, I think you need a nap." Matt put his arms under Randy's and helped him to his feet.

"I'm fine Matt... really." Randy replied

"No, you need to rest." Matt answered forcefully enough to convince the Apex predator that this time he was the prey. "Trust me."

...

"One down, one to go." Eric smiled. He had a rep for working fast as well as being quick with words. It hadn't taken much to find out where Evan and Jack were being held and it was no "coincidence" that he was at the jail with urgent business when dinner was being served. His method was by no means untraceable, but he would be miles away before any thoughts of an autopsy would even surface. It was on his way out, that he noticed the message from Tom.

"That's interesting." He listened to it. "Very interesting."

...

The Orton family barbecue went as well as could be expected. Randy was still a little shell-shocked, but having Matt by his side definitely helped. Once his relatives' initial discomfort over learning about whom Randy had decided to spend the rest of his life with wore off, most of them didn't give Matt a second glance. Those that did merely shrugged and moved on to the grill.

"I think things are gonna work out." Tom said, his plate piled high.

"I hope so." Jeff replied, chugging from the latest in a long series of beers. "Imma wants Matty and Randy to be as happy as we is."

"Me too, but just don't bandy that little bit of information too loudly. Accepting homosexuality is one thing, but what we got could get us lynched." Tom drank from his own beer. "And you might want to slow down on the booze. I need you at least partially sober for later."

"Oh?" Jeff asked "Whys?"

"Eric got back to me. I think this entire mess is just about finished." Tom clinked bottles.

"Yayz!" Jeff cheered hoarsely.

"Once the party dies down, the four of us will have a nice sit down." Tom looked around for the nearest cooler. "Now where did that beer go?"

...

The last twelve hours were absolute torture for Mark. James, who on his best days could act like a sulky five-year-old denied his teddy, had gone well beyond that in terms of being a general ass.

"Connor, Cooper, get your butts down here right now!" After being glared at for the millionth time, and for what Mark hadn't a clue, he was at the end of his rope.

"I didn't do it, Marky... I love you."

Cooper just rolled his eyes at Mark. "What the fuck do you want, Dead Man?"

"After what I went through to protect this family, I think I deserve a little more respect that that." Mark glared at his biological son. If the look was meant to scare Cooper, it failed.

"You mean what you went through to cover your own ass, don't you?" He hated Mark and Cooper didn't foresee that changing anytime in the future.

"Boy, don't..."

"Don't what? You don't scare me. You've never scared me." Cooper retorted "So unless you got something important to say, which I fuckin' doubt, then I got no time for ya."

"I don't know what's gotten into your Dad, but it's driving my up the Goddamn wall. I never thought I'd say this, but would the two of you mind taking him somewhere."

"And do what exactly?" Cooper couldn't believe his ears. Was Mark suggesting what he thought he was?

"You know what I'm talkin' about, kid." _Same old Mark. Can't even bring yourself to say the word. You fuckin' think you're better than all of us... _

"Yay!" Even Connor was smart enough to figure out what Mark was suggesting. "C'mon Daddy, Marky wants us to go kill someone."

"Oh he does?" James looked up. "Why would my Marky want that?"

"Because it's the only way to make you happy." Mark answered "This funk you seem to be in isn't helping any of us and it's royally pissing me off. Find a hooker, or a homeless guy, or some dope dealer and do what you do best."

Before James could even fathom what Mark was saying, he found himself standing on the front porch, being pulled toward one of his cars by Connor.

"This better work, Marky." James grumbled "Or else."

...

The barbeque at the Orton house was in it's final stages. Most of the guests had, either by design or by choice, eat, drank, and made themselves merry to the point that they were sprawled out wherever.

Off to one side, Matt, Tom, and Jeff were watching their future inlaws stagger around in different stages of intoxication.

"My kind of family." Elbowing Matt in the ribs, Tom watched uncle Barry collapse onto a lawn chair that looked like it was barely able to support the weight. Jeff giggled.

"I think Randy's the soberest one of them." Orton had been sent to fetch the latest round of drinks. At Tom's insistence, the four of them were going to have a serious discussion about recent events, drunk or not.

"Here he comes." Realizing what he had said sent Matt into giggles, and that got Jeff started again. By the time Randy arrived, all three were laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?"

Matt opened his mouth to answer, but all that came forth was a fresh burst of laughter.

"Sorry, bro." Tom was the first to recover enough to be coherent. "Matt made a funny."

"All three of you should be cut off." Randy dispensed the drinks. "'Specially if y'all wanna talk."

"Aweh. We's just havin' fun."

"We all know what that leads to." Randy dropped into the lounger and curled up with Matt.

"Where do we stand?" Matt asked, stroking his lover's shoulder.

"Uh Matty, we're sittin'." Jeff replied

"Don't look at me." The looks Tom received from Matt and Randy made him shake his head. "I've given up on him, really I have."

"Haven't we all." Randy added

"Anyway, serious discussion time." Tom quickly dialed Eric's emergency contact number and put it on speaker, meanwhile hoping he would answer.

"Sup, Hardy?" Eric answered and it sounded like he was expecting the call.

"Just wanted to everyone together to touch base." Eric replied "The Orton clan is bombed out of their minds, so we can talk freely."

"At least you can." Eric replied "I still don't trust cell phone companies, especially after the George Bush FISA bullshit."

"Keep it brief then... problems?" Tom said

"Dealt with." Eric replied "You see tonight's news?"

"No." Matt answered "We's been partying."

"Bourne's been put into witness protection as well and is being flown out of the country. No comment on your visitor, which is good because I guess he covered his ass enough. It looks like your problems are over."

That was the one sentence the quartet had been looking forward to hearing for weeks.

"I'll call you for payment?" Eric asked, even though it wasn't actually a question.

"Sneak in to a show sometime and we'll settle. You gotta know how much we appreciate this."

"Anytime, Hardy. If you need me, you know how to reach me, just don't leave this number lying around."

"Agreed. I'll talk in the future."

Just like the events that started this ride, they ended as abruptly when Eric hung up.

"And just like that, is it ovah!" Matt exhaled loudly, the relief coming off him in waves.

"We can all get back to our lives." Randy rubbed his lover's arm. "No worries."

"Yup." Tom agreed

"I is worried." Jeff sighed

"What's wrong Jeffers?" Tom asked.

"You is going away still. I is going to be lonely." Jeff sighed again

"I'm not leaving for a couple days." Tom hugged Jeff close. "Let's enjoy the rest of the night... or at least enjoy watching Matt and Randy kiss."

Both Matt and Randy spat beer onto themselves.

"Okay, maybe not." Tom reached for his own bottle.

...

"I am only going to be gone for a couple of days." Tom brought his luggage into the hall and set it by the door. "Matt's bringing Lucas over while Lizzie's at the vet's being fixed, so you shouldn't be too bored. If you are, call one of the THS crew. I'll be back before you know it."

"Okies." Jeff sighed. He'd been sighing a lot lately, but this was the longest they were going to be apart since getting together. "Love you."

"I love you too." Tom kissed his man on the lips. "Just don't get into too much trouble and whatever you do, don't drink all my beer."

"Imma promise." Jeff answered "See you in a couple days."

Jeff watched from the window as Tom got into the car. He blew Jeff a kiss before backing out of the driveway and down the road. Jeff waved until the car was out of sight, then immediately got on his phone.

"Hiyaz Shanny.. Tommers just left... ya wanna have some fun?"

THE END

_For those of you who don't know, "Crossfire", my first collaboration with Redsandman99, follows next in the series._


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